Chapter 2
Bound
Mia had found the key. As she was gathered into male arms she chided herself for forgetting the male susceptibility to female tears. Had she cried as girls were suppose to cry yesterday she might have avoided all that had happened since. But she snuggled against Ryan Gentry's silk shirt and Harris tweed, liberally dampening both and she felt the security she sometimes felt with Cyril Updike. The smell and feel of men when a girl was in trouble held a magic of their own. When her sobs turned to sniffles, her eyes were dried with a silk handkerchief and she was held by firm fingers on her bare shoulders. Gentry was smiling in complete understanding. "Feeling better now?"
"Yes ... I'm ... sorry," Mia sniffed and tried to smile. "It's just I've been tied here like this so long and nobody pays any attention ..."
Ryan Gentry unblushingly grasped Mia's neck tether and turned her slowly around. With an equal absence of shame he felt the contours of her strained breasts and followed her beauty with his hand until it rested upon the moist, hot orifice between her thighs. With another man it might have been described as "feeling her up" but with Ryan Gentry it was more a reassurance of her being all there and properly accounted for. Knowing she could not get the best of him, the captive girl stood in meek docility and waited for something to happen.
"I've decided to steal you," her visitor said reflectively. "You're too good to waste, those two sisters of yours can't possibly appreciate the jewel they've left tied to a tree. Damn it girl! It's a good thing I've found you!"
Mia wanted to agree but she was still tightly tied and Ryan was making no effort at release. He was shamingly absorbed with her as she was. Mia could well believe certain female features were enhanced by the strictures on her arms, perhaps also despair and weariness were depicted in her pose. Perhaps for some purposes a girl needed to be thus bound to meet with the erotic approval of an artist. She was now sure the stories about Ryan Gentry were true. Prudently she kept silent. She was his!
"I'm going to take you exactly as you are. Miss Mia Argent. It's a bit of a walk and you may change your mind about using me as an instrument of release. If I untie you we may have a tussle on the way back to my place. Much better I treat your tether as a leash and lead you back home. That way there'll be no use your changing your mind half way. That OK by you?"
Mia said, Yes, it was OK. She knew that were this the first day of her strange captivity she would have said a very firm negative. But she was weary of captivity and sought any way out she could find. Gentry would have to untie her sometime and that would be her chance!
Keeping her voice even without the tone of hidden reservations, she told him simply, "I can't bargain, you can do as you wish with me and I'm not going to argue about it. But, please, let's hurry to where ever you're going to take me so we can cut away these beastly adhesive bands around my elbows, they're pure agony."
They started out with the Male in the lead and the captive girl struggling along behind at the end of her leash, but this was not conducive to conversation and it was not long before they walked side by side, Gentry taking the precaution of a firm grip on the rope around her neck. It hurt Mia outrageously as the motions of their progress made for greater stress upon her bound elbows. But she had ceased to complain about anything, she fell into step beside the man for whom she had no name, either captor or friend and warily watched were she placed her bare feet. Wanly, she realized a girl would have no need of hobbles upon her ankles; the twigs, the stones, the venom of unseen objects in the grass were hobbles enough. They impeded her progress adequately enough to prevent any escape attempt. Mia, bound and helpless, tried hard to match her captor in polite conversation.
"Wonder what I'm going to do with you?" Gentry inquired with interest. "Could be pretty bad, you know."
"No, I'm not wondering. And I don't think it will be bad at all. I think you're simply taking advantage of a situation but I'm in no position to plead or bargain, I'm thankful to get away from that damned tree."
"Think of the expressions on those little darling's faces when they find you gone."
Mia had been thinking about exactly that but she was an older sister and was feeling concern. "Look, please, Mr. Gentry, let them know, give them a phone call or send them word some way about what you're doing with me. If you'll let me, I'll talk to them on the phone myself, but please don't leave them worried and uncertain about me. Will you do that, I'll be ever so grateful."
"Hmmmm, you want something, I want something. I expect we can effect a trade. Am I walking too fast?" Gentry was walking too fast, but she told him, no, it was OK and she was glad to be able to walk at all. Mia told him how glad she was for the dubious freedom he vouchsafed her, it was little enough ... But after a week secured to the tree ... !
"I'm assuming you're a gentleman, Mr. Gentry?" Mia said, hopefully. "I think you're getting a charge out of having me the way I am. I suppose most men would. So, OK, I'm your prisoner, let's leave it at that."
Mia had seen Gentry's house from the road but they now approached it from the rear, seeking concealment of her condition. It was simply a country house, the sort of thing rich men possessed and kept in readiness for sudden weekends. Safe within its walls, Gentry wasted no time in peeling the adhesive from her arms. The release was almost frightening in its intensity. For moments Mia stood in mingled pain and thankfulness as the blood resumed its course within her veins. She then ejaculated an absurd, "Ohhhhhh, thank you, Mr. Gentry. Thank you! I can't tell you how good that is."
Her captor nodded, partly at her thanks and partly in consideration of the situation as it now sat. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked musingly. "I've never owned a girl before, not the way I own you." He paused to scrutinize her own uncertainties so clearly depicted on her face. "If I untie you completely, you'll simple run home, won't you? I suppose I could prevent that, I'm stronger than you, but tussles are a bore. Maybe I should keep you the way you are?"
It was not what Mia wanted but she did not push. Her longing for the freedom of her hands was almost painful in its intensity. She would need to treat this man with care and caution. "I don't want to stay tied up the way I am," she said thoughtfully. "I'm sure you understand that. I've had enough of it! But I suppose you're right, if you gave me freedom I'd run. But, look, there's an easy way out. Let me give you some sort of parole. Look, you want me as a model so, OK, I'll stay here a reasonable period of time. And I'll do what you tell me. After you've painted your picture, I'll go home."
"That's horseshit! The moment I untie you you'll head for the door. I'd have to use force." Gentry was still seeking ways and means of retaining the services and person of a young woman against her will. "Damned pity I don't have handcuffs or a chain and a padlock, they'd be far and away the best way of looking after you. I don't want to keep you tied and noosed the way you are. I'm the least sadistic man in the world, but when I get a girl I want I suppose I'm a bit ruthless. Think of something else, that parole bit didn't strike me as practical."
Mia sighed, she could see Gentry's point, but she more vividly saw her own. She had a burning longing to return to the twins and impose retribution. And it would be nice to be home again and free of fetters. Doubtfully she suggested, "Well, it would be nice if, to begin with, you took this rope off my neck. Unless you want to keep me tethered in one place, it serves no purpose. If you keep my hands tied the way they are, I'm helpless enough. I can't fight you."
"But you could still run away." Gentry sounded doubtful. His eyes still roved as though they expected her nudity to provide an answer. In sudden inspiration he said, "Look, how about I tie you so you're helpless, then go to the village and buy whatever chain and padlocks I can find. I don't suppose I can possibly get handcuffs there. And that's a pity."
Mia shrugged despondently. It appeared she was fated to be the perennial prisoner. First the twins, now this man and his unwanted admiration. Her voice was uncaring, "Very well, Mr. Gentry, do whatever you wish. I haven't much to say about it, have I?"
"Well, first off let's get human, you call me Ryan and I call you Mia." He grinned and was suddenly an eager boy. "I suppose you're right, you don't have much of anything to say about it. I'm going to feel a bit of a bastard, but that won't stop me with what I intend."
It was a pleasant house, the sort often referred to by those with money as "a little place in the country." It was not too small and only slightly isolated from the rest of the community, it was visible from the road but had no immediate neighbors. The surrounding was mostly woodland. It was borne upon Mia Argent that, if a man truly desired to paint pictures of her, he could paint a great many in this house before she was discovered. Based on his precautions to date, she had little hope of escape. A studio had been contrived on the upper floor and taken to it, she saw the evidence of this man who held her captive being a true artist. The place was littered with canvasses, mostly finished, plus all the paraphernalia associated with the painting of a picture. The small dais and the subject matter of the pictures not turned to the wall left little doubt Ryan Gentry dealt in the nude figures of girls and only .to a lesser degree in scenery. His work was good, there was no denying it. A phrase flittered through her mind, "In the hands of a master."
"Are you hungry, Mia, or do you need ... ?" Ryan was suddenly the solicitous host."
"Of course, I am and yes, I do ... "
He laughed in an amusement Mia did not share. "By Jove, bit of a contretemps, say. You don't have hands."
"Have you only just noticed?" Her voice was icy. "I not only do not have hands, I do not have anything."
"Except the most beautiful body I've ever seen. Far too good to be wasted on those twins of yours." Ryan consulted his watch. "Look, there's just about time, I've got to sprint to the village and get something I can keep you safe with instead of having you tied up like the redskins captive. How's that?"
Mia shrugged. She was not sure it was good. Uncertainly she repeated, "If you would only take my parole ..."
It was done with decision. One moment Mia was standing erect and the next she was seated in a kitchen chair, her tied hands raised over its back and then tied down to the rungs between its legs. Her feet were dealt with by dragging them up to either side and binding the ankles tight to the convenience of other rungs to each side. Being now experienced in such matter, she knew she could never free herself. She also knew she was blushing at the exposure of her parted thighs as The Male knelt to bind her feet. His face was outrageously close to that private part of her body. Gentry gave her an unexpected kiss on the forehead before speeding on his errand and leaving her alone.
Apart from outrage at her helplessness, Mia's first realization was of a condition worsened rather than helped by the intervention of Ryan Gentry. She shifted against her bonds and knew them unmovable. If her struggles became violent, they might upset her chair, sending crashing to the floor and leaving her worse off than before. Bitterly she thought back in regret to the tree in the woodland and her liberal tether. Her hands were still tied as the twins had tied them, the same wire denying any loosening of the knots. Unless Ryan informed them, the twins would be going crazy with anxiety. The bound girl knew she had taken a step in the wrong direction. Her only hope was of Ryan becoming nervous of a charge of kidnapping. Mia supposed she could reasonable consider herself kidnapped.
The girl tied naked to the chair considered possibilities. One day, two, three ... ? She had no knowledge of how long it took to paint a naked girl. Having gone to this trouble, it was unlikely Ryan would be satisfied with a single picture. He would want a reward equal to his risk. She found it impossible to hate his boyish exuberance and was annoyed by being flattered by his articulate admiration. If it had come about differently she might well have been anticipating her posing for an artist with pleasurable excitement. It was hard to know why being an artist gave a man license to look at naked girls, but it was an ancient privilege from which she gained comfort and release from guilt. Mia made some further futile struggles then relaxed into the resignation of awaiting her captor's return. From her roped neck the familiar tether fell away to make a loop upon the floor.
It was Mia's first experience of being immovably bound. She could turn and twist to her heart's content, but was basically forced to sit. Her bound hands were pulled down tightly to drag her armpits hard against the chair's back. Her feet were bent up and bound in such accurate perfection she found herself wondering if Ryan Gentry gained such expertise by having tied up his models. The prisoner sat and listened to the quaint small sounds all old houses make. The place had atmosphere, the studio in which she sat was filled with light and would undeniably be described as a cheerful room. If there were dark basement down below, Ryan had failed to mention them. If only the twins knew where she was ... !
"Sorry I took so long." Ryan dumped a heavy, metallic bag on the floor. "Had to go to two places. That's the nice thing about England, if one village doesn't have a thing, the next one will." He dumped his purchases upon the floor, obviously pleased with them. "This will be a bit crude, but it will get us by until I can get something a bit more modern."
Mia surveyed the items intended for her restrain with shrinking dismay. Rope was one thing but these shining links of chain, a chain by no means light or ladylike, did nothing to encourage hope, even less the padlocks. Her features spoke more eloquently than words but failed to dampen boyish enthusiasm. "There's quite a few of these padlocks but I made sure they all work from the same single key. It will help no end in looking after you. Save all the fumbling. Look, I know you must be sick of that chair, I'll go right to work."
First her feet. They were untied from the chair but then joined by a length of chair, obviously cut to order, each end wrapped around one ankle and a padlock shut upon the links to allow a span of fifteen inches. It would make walking possible but she would neither kick or run. Mia found herself blushing, it was like being fitted for intimate garments by a man. In fact that was exactly what Ryan Gentry was doing. The rope tugging down her bound wrists to enable Mia to stand erect. With pause a chain passed around her waist to be pulled snug and locked in a belt of metal links. But before its padlock snapped a large metal ring had been inserted within the belt at Mia's back. This ring was now threaded with more chain while her captor anxiously inquired, "Look, I'm going to free you hand. I hope you'll be sensible?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake don't be so damned polite! Get on with what you have to do. I hate every bit of it, so there's no use asking if I approve."
"Thought you might like to rub your wrists a bit, they've been tied a long time. You can take a minute if you want."
Mia wanted to badly but knew she would feel ridiculous under his laughing eyes. Irritably she retorted, "Nevermind. Do what you must."
Links of metal now replaced the bit of cord upon her wrists, they were not drawn together but simply joined by a span similar to that upon her ankles. Ryan stood back to admire. "Neat idea that, huh? Kind of gives you one free hand at a time, you can choose which one."
Mia would have liked to refuse but she was curious. With one fettered hand she reached to scratch her nose an act which drew her other hand tight against the ring within her belt. The grasped its ingenuity, on fettered hand would have a limited freedom at the expense of the other. She said a stiff, uncompromising, "Thank you, Mr. Gentry, I suppose you mean well but I find this utterly degrading. I'd be obliged if you would take the rope from my neck."
Ryan stepped back. He was quite simply enjoying her. He reached to finger the rope circlet upon Mia's neck while she stood stiffly and flushing to the indignity of what he had done to her. He appeared to be a man who reached decisions with easy. "No, the rope stays. It's possible I'll want to tether you myself." He chuckled mischievously. "Wear it with pride."
As the chained girl walked, under her captor's guidance to the bathroom and then the kitchen, she could not believe it had ever been possible to be other than awkward, clumsy and feel ridiculous in the metal restraints. Each step she took was snubbed as though in unspoken admonition against escape. Both chain and padlocks rattled gayly with every motion. Her hands slid back and forth against each other as she allowed them to hang passive at her side. Silently Mia Argent made a bitter resolution that the twins and this ridiculous man would pay heavily for this humiliation.
Mia was permitted to sit while her cheerful companion who held the key to her chains busied himself with food and drink. It was a bachelor kitchen with sink and drain board filled with incrusted plates and soiled glasses. She was told, almost as a privilege, that when they had eaten she could wash these relics of this and other meals.
"Don't be ridiculous, I can't possibly wash dishes with one hand and I'm certainly not going to do your dirty work."
"You will, love, you will. You'll be surprised at all the things you'll do. If you talk nicely I may dry them for you but you'll do the washing."
The captive girl swallowed angry words. She was not sure of Ryan, it would be best to feel her way cautiously. She ate and drank and enjoyed everything except the constant clink and rattle of chain and padlock. It was hard to believe this was actually happening.
"Would you give me some idea of your intentions for me?" she asked when they were done.
"I can use you for two or three weeks," Ryan said thoughtfully. "It's a bore having to keep you chained but I simply won't trust you. That parole thing is for the birds."
"Very well then, but will you let me phone the twins, if we don't they're certain to go to the police?"
"Sure, why not. I won't phone them but you will. Tell them you traded two or three weeks of your time for freedom."
"But I'm not free!"
"They won't know that, will they?" Ryan laughed away her dilemma. "If you believe they're becoming panicky, why have them visit. I'll permit that."
"I'll bet you will! You'd make them prisoner, too. And then you'd have all three of us."
But it was far easier than Mia had supposed. After breathless questions, they were content to listen. The twins had always cherished an erotic curiosity about the painter and his reputation. Listening to the calm voice of their sister they were reassured but perceptive of discrepancy. "But, darling, this absolutely is not You. You'd never do a thing like you're saying. There has to be something wrong?"
Mia knew herself trapped. She could tell her younger sisters to go to the police and rescue her from Ryan Gentry's chains. But she could well imagine the publicity, the raised eyebrows, the doubt in which her story would be heard. It would be far better for her to work out the sentence Gentry had imposed. Instead, she offered her captor's own suggestion. "But, darlings, you can come and visit me if you want, just to make sure I'm all right and stop your worrying." With big-sister severity she added, "This whole thing is your fault, you know. If you hadn't done what you did to me ..."
Flushed and uneasy about her sisters, Mia now found herself confronted by the contents of the sink and by her master's questioning eye.
"You can do you dishes yourself," she said flatly with firm hostility. "I'm no housemaid and it's not possible anyway."
"You will go to the sink now and commence your work, Mia. If you don't I shall place you on your back on the kitchen floor here and rape you on the spot. I suggest you do not quibble."
Mia stared aghast. Here it was, the male/female confrontation, the act implicit in her chains. But her retort was instant, "You can't. I don't think you would anyway but it's not possible the way you've chained my feet." She knew herself one huge blush.
"Come, come, are you that inexperienced? Think of it, dear girl, that chain won't hinder a thing."
She was being laughed at. When she thought of the mechanics of the act proposed she knew was right. She could easily be raped and would remain helpless throughout. Whether Ryan Gentry would be that brutal she could only guess. But it was a chance she was not prepared to take. Without another word other than an angry sniff she went to the sink and reached her one free arm towards the tap.
Mia surprised herself, the impossible became possible. One by one she disposed of Ryan's dishes while her mind was aflame with speculation. Surely he would not do it. Surely he would have the decency to leave her involute while he painted his pictures. But she knew the thought of being used by The Male had been present in her mind from the being. It was nakedness by which she became doubly vulnerable. In a placating tone, she asked the man who was drying as she washed, "There's no need for me to be naked like this, I'm sure you've got things to cover me up."
"You don't need them. I'm an artist, remember? You're not my first naked girl."
"At least a pair of panties, or something I can drape over my hips?"
"No!" It was a most decisive negative.
Her week attached to the tree had inured Mia to nudity. She had now spent sufficient time in the possession of Ryan Gentry to erode normal sensibilities about being bare in the presence of the male. Mia accepted what she must but did so with ill grace.
"So where do I go from here?" she asked aggressively.
"We go to work, mat's what we do. There's a bow or two of decent light left." There was a businesslike air about him now. "But I wish you'd look a bit happier. You've been a regular thundercloud ever since I got you those chains. I would have thought you'd have been grateful."
"I've been kidnapped. What have I to be grateful about? On top of being abducted, I'm also chained like a slave in ancient Rome. Good gosh ... !"
"That's the way I'll paint you, the naked slavegirl on the block. I don't have to include the padlock and I'll have to paint in wristlets and anklets. But the rest of you is perfect." Ryan gathered up the rope leash and tugged at the reluctant neck. "Come on."
It was not until their return to the studio the unwilling slavegirl made a stand. Pushed up on the dais she felt twice naked and rebelled. "You surely don't think I'm going to stand here in this condition while you ogle me all day. I know I can't run or fight but I'm damned if I'll do that."
Gentry was setting up a fresh canvass and spared only a cocked eyebrow at his perturbed model. "OK, love, so what are you going to do?" he asked politely.
Mia longed to scream, longed to do anything or be anywhere than where she was. Gentry had helped her up to the platform where she stood, to retreat would probably entail stumbling and falling while trying to get down. She felt innocent and isolated, angry and impotent. She turned around to present her back. "There, that's what I think of you and your painting."
"Very nice, sweetheart, we'll get to that view when we finish the first. You can stand that way if you wish, I have a few things to do."
It was hopeless! Mia knew she could do nothing right. She was trapped and might as well make the best of it. She turned back to face the artist busy with his paints. Thoughts of the absurdity of her condition forced a smile she hoped he would not see. If only they were doing this for fun, something between friends, instead of her playing the role of captive slave maiden in undisputable reality.
"That's better," Gentry nodded approvingly. "Now, if you won't mind sort of moving around. Let the motions flow and I'll grab the one I want. When I say "stop" you freeze."
Why not! She was stuck with it, there was no escape. If she could please Gentry, he might lower his guard, give her a bit of freedom. Mia smiled a small, false smile and did as she was told. Her shocked query was instant, "Look, you're not going to paint my ... my ... Oh, damn, you're not going to paint my thing down there, are you?"
"Not specifically, my pet. I don't think a full canvass of a twat could sell. But, of course, I'm going to paint it, it's a part of the ensemble. Don't you dare cross your legs."
Surprisingly, Gentry chose a moment when his model was cupping her breasts in fettered hands and glaring at him wryly in suspicion, her shackled legs ready for a leap they could not make. Mia froze obediently to his "hold it" and realized, with some chagrin, she had ceased to be a naked girl subject to instant violation and had become instead the slavegirl of ancient days, responsive to an artist's whim. Despite herself she became interested.
While Gentry worked, his subject's mind was busy with escape. It seemed inconceivable she could be held any length of time. A day or two perhaps ... ! Then, if the twins made enough fuss ... Surely Gentry would come to his senses and realize the hazard of what he was doing, he had stolen a girl and there were laws ... !
Tentatively she asked, "You said something about handcuffs and such like that. Are you really going to get them?"
His reply was cheery, "Don't you like what you've got on, my pet? They'll hold you safe."
"These chains you've got on me and the beastly padlocks you've got on me are horrible. They're not the least bit feminine. They belong on some huge man who's seven feet tall."
"Looks OK to me, sweetheart. This is going to be a smashing picture, I can feel it. You're heaven's gift to any artist. I'm going to make you famous."
"I don't want to be famous - and naked!"
"You'll get over that. They all do. Stick your chest out another inch."
Gentry was impossible. Fixed as she was now, Mia knew she could not best him, he held all the cards and made all the rules. Once more she asked, "About those handcuffs ... ?"
"Yeah, I'll get them, I'll get the most expensive set I can find, but you won't like them. I know what you're thinking. You've got the notion you can slip out of them, that they're made for big men and not beautiful girls." He chuckled, preoccupied, "You'll have a chance to find out."
It was an exhausting two hours before Ryan Gentry called a halt, complaining of fading light. Mia was tired and grateful of his helping hand to get her back on the floor. The question Ryan asked then was one she had debated with herself. "What about sleeping? Do you want to be with me in my bed? Or maybe on the floor? I suppose I could give you your own room, but you'll be lonely."
"Thank you. I'll be lonely." Mia sniffed, "Isn't it a bit early to be putting me to bed?"
"We could have a nightcap in the lounge, but I warn you, I'm an early raiser when I've got a picture on the block. You'll not lay abed sleeping." He gathered the coils of her rope tether. "This way, come along."
Perhaps it was the release of emotion or Ryan's casual manner, but for the first time the chained girl was aware of curiosity in her condition and a certain generation of warmth in her belly from the genuine erotism of what Gentry was doing with her. There was no pain, no threats, she was simply his prisoner and ironed to prevent escape. Everything fell into place and seemed natural. Mia hoped she could sustain the mood for the duration of her sentence. Even when Ryan tossed the coils of her tether to the rug and said abruptly, "There's the bar, you can mix the drinks, damned it, what does a man have a slavegirl for!"
She was unperturbed. They were playing a game and if she could score points ...
She mixed him his scotch and soda and delivered it to him before dealing with her own libation. She was momentary taken back by his abrupt demand, "Serve it kneeling. You know the pose. Maybe I'll get a picture out of it."
"I can't possibly, I'll fall on the way down."
"Try it."
Mia was young, her motions were fluid, it was easier than she had supposed. Ryan Gentry took the glass, nodding approval. She clinked her way back to the bar. Returning with her drink she asked mischievously, "Do I sip this kneeling at the feet of my master?"
It was the right cord. Goodwill flowed from Gentry in a wave she could positively feel. They had found their wavelength and if she could play the cards without fumbling, there might be hope. If she could buy release by a brief surrender of her body, she would do so. The chained girl knelt with surprising grace then sat back upon her heels, sipped her drink and gazed up coyly for the approval of her lord. This could be fun!
"Why didn't you call upon me when I first moved into the district?" Gentry inquired. "I thought this was de rigueur with county people. All the old buffers came for their glass of sherry."
"Your reputation kept me away. Judging from what I've seen and what you're doing with me, your reputation is well earned."
Ryan laughed, "It's just sour grapes, sweetheart, they hate to see a man possess girls. And I've had a fair number staying with me on and off since I moved in. Damn it, that's the way I make my living - selling the pictures, of course, not the girls."
"Don't tell me you've kept other girls in chains the way you're keeping me!"
"If I had, I'd be better equipped to look after you, sweetheart. No, they came of their own free will either because they liked me or wanted money. You'd spread your legs, you know, if I offered enough." He gazed down derisively. "But those chains you're wearing save me a lot of money. You can't argue." He paused again as if to read her mind. "How does that make you feel?"
Mia was loath to tell. She knew it the most sensuous moment of her life. She was totally owned. She only need move a hand or a leg to reassure herself on this point. She was kneeling humbly before a man who could do as he pleased with her. She could refuse him nothing. Engulfed in a flood of female heat, she managed to articulate, "It makes me feel exactly the way you are supposing. I'm so terribly ashamed, you should be, too."
"Supposing at the end of two or three weeks I wish to keep you permanently, what then?"
"If a man wants to keep a girl all her life, he usually asks her to marry him."
"Oh, well, we are making progress! Are you proposing to me?"
"No, I'm not! I'm just staring a fact. Ryan, you're impossible. You've got me naked and chained and expecting a rape and you ask academic questions. If it would be any help, I'd like you to unlock these chains and let me go home."
Ryan laughed at her earnestness, "I suspect you're a good girl at heart, as good as any girl ever is. Here, fill my glass again and forget about going home. You're home right now."
Mia hastened to obey. She made a musical path to the bar and back. She knelt in approve fashion, she received gracious permission to pour another and she did but not without wondering ... !
"I may be a right royal bastard when it comes to pretty girls," Ryan informed her over his glass. "I'll tell you straight, if I can get those two little sisters of yours into my power, I'll do so." Observing her stricken features, he added, "I wouldn't hurt the pretty little darlings but I'll add them to my stable same as I've got you. I've sure we'd come to some sort of working agreement or arrangement."
Mia said nothing, she was torn between a wish to see the twins chained as she was chained and a fear of what Ryan might do to them. "I've told you before," she pointed out reasonably, "you should consider the hazard you run with the police. If they get on your tail, there's nothing I or the twins could say or do that would save you from going to prison. Please leave the girls alone. If they do come to visit, to make sure I'm still alive, treat them as visitors. I'll find some way to explain why you keep me chained. "You're not a virgin, are you?" He sounded anxious.
"No, but the girls are. Leave them alone."
"I may use you instead?"
Mia stared the dominant male squarely in the eye to say, unhappily, "OK, let's be done with pretense. You can violate my sex to your heart's content, I know that, but the twins don't know it, they can only guess. Tell them nothing. Surely using me should be enough!"
"My, my, the big sister and mother hen combined! I'd have supposed, after the way they treated you, you'd be glad to get a bit of you own back?"
"Never mind, just leave them alone. Do whatever you wish with me." She gave a bit of a chuckle. "I know this sounds silly because I can't give you permission to do anything, you already have me, you don't need permission. I don't want to be violated, I want to walk out of here as intact as when I came. Whatever happens to me is up to you."
Bedtime was simple. Once more the tether was gathered up and Mia was led to a surprisingly pleasant room devoid of disorder. The rope from her neck was threaded through the lower rail of the bed and its far end tied in a placed she could not reach. That looked after that. There was a bathroom she could reach and that looked after that, too. She received a big-brotherly kiss and was left alone to hear the snap of the lock from outside. She did not bother to test the knob nor strive to unfasten the rope. She knew herself a prisoner and that, also, was that. Mia Argent surprised herself by laying down and falling fast asleep.
They breakfasted earlier that Mia would have wished, but Gentry desired to obtain her more humane restraints and this necessitated a trip to London. If he was to paint today, he must needs hurry. He tethered his captive so she could do the chores without hope of escape and hurried on his way.
An hour later there was a knock on the door.
At the end of her tether, Mia could view the front doorstep from a bay window she could not reach, nor could she approach the front door itself, her tether had been artfully tied to deny her contact with any door or any window. But, watching her two sisters waiting expectantly, she cried, "Help! Help! I'm here inside."
They must have heard. She saw their startled glance and in an effort help, sought ways and means to let them in. She found an ornamental vase from the mantle and hurled it with all her might of a single chained hand at the window. The glass shattered with a truly horrific noise and a moment later two youthful female faces looked within.
"Kick away the glass from the edges, then crawl in," Mia instructed desperately. "Come along darlings, we've got it made, we really have."
Fancy and Angel were nothing if not enterprising. A moment later they stood inside the room surveying their big sister with a mixture of alarm and approval. They were breathless in admiration. "Oh, darling, how sweet you look! Did a man ... ?"
"Yes, he did. But never mind that, get me out of here quick!"
"But, darling, couldn't we look around a bit? He isn't here, is he?"
"No, he isn't but he will be. And if he finds you, you'll end up the same as I am. For goodness sake, don't quibble."
The twins looked at each other and at her. Mia was accustomed to their thinking in unison without words. "I know what you're thinking," she told them irritably. "But you wouldn't like it one little bit. I'm so damned helpless!"
"So we noticed, darling, you're simply scrumptious. Those chains are so clever. Can you walk back home in them and with nothing on?"
"I walked here with nothing on, so I can walk back. With the chains it will be a little slower, that's all."
"But we won't have a key, darling?"
"I don't care, get me out of here and get me out of here quick if you don't want to end up the same as I am." Mia's urgency was infectious. The girls picked up her tether giggling hugely and led her to the front door which opened easily from within. By skirting the traveled paths, they got back home safely in the space of an hour of difficult going. Once their own door closed behind them, the stood within the spacious hallway to survey their sister's fresh predicament.
"You can't get loose, can you, darling?"
"No, I can't. And you can't get me loose either. The best thing is for one of you to get away to the village real quick and buy a hack saw and some blades."
Angel and Fancy appeared not to hear. They gazed at her with young, speculative eyes filled with mischievous, their argument specious, "But, darling, if we let you loose you'll be terribly mean to us. We had you prisoner, or have you forgotten?"
Mia's heart sank. But it was better to be prisoner to her sisters than to a man she did not know. Gentry might be fun in his own way, but he was an uncertain quantity. She knew the twins - sooner or later they would have to return her freedom. Mia could tell from their amused expressions that they had no intention of giving it to her now. Irritably she exclaimed, "Well, run along. If they don't have a hack saw or blades, I seem to remember hearing about a thing called a bolt cutter. Don't just stand there."
"But we like having you prisoner, darling! We think the way you're fixed now is really wonderful. We're wondering if we shouldn't just leave you this way."
"Don't be so damned mean! I don't want to be left this way. A man locked these things on me and so long as I wear them it's as if he were in the room. Look, if you love me at all, you'll get rid of them. I don't care a bit what you do to me otherwise. You can tie me up to your heart's content, but for heaven's sake get rid of these chains."
They reached decision, they too were female, they could sense and understand their sister's distress. But before going farther there was a question they must ask.
"Darling, did he ... do ... well ... you know what? We mean, did he ... ?"
"No, he didn't. If you want to know about him, you'll have to unchain me then I'll tell you about him. The guy's a mystery. He said he wanted to paint me and he actually got a picture started ..."
"OK, OK!" Angel departed in a hurry. Fancy said, "We do love you so much, darling. Our pussies curled up every day when we had you tethered to the tree. Would you mind very much if we put you back there?"
"I don't care! I just don't care!" Mia said angrily. "I don't see why you have to keep me prisoner, if it pleases some stupid notion in your minds, well go ahead. I'm not going to fight about anything, I'm so damned glad to be home."
Mia's declaration was the unlocking of a door. Fancy could not do enough. The chained girl was bathed and fed and made a fuss of. There was hot coffee and loving arms but there was also the silky voice, "Darling, you do understand, don't you. It's so gorgeous having you our prisoner. We've talked about it a lot and we want to keep you always. I don't suppose we can but we want to try. I know we can't keep you tied out to the tree forever, but there's all sorts of ways we can prevent you escaping. Just before that man stole you from us, we had bought the loveliest things."
Mia watched the unpacking of the heavy box in a total certainly of what she was about to see. There were chrome handcuffs and exquisite black handcuffs in a matte finish. There are what she supposed would be called "leg irons" and a great deal of chains. In addition there was an assortment of collars, presumably for her neck, some were beautiful, others sent a shiver up her spine. She wondered if ever before a girl her age had been thus dragged from the mundane into a world of fantasy.
"Everything will be gorgeously comfortable for you, darling," Fancy said with ardent concern. "But you'll never get free, not ever! Isn't it wonderful!"
Mia supposed it was indeed wonderful, but her mind was busy with thoughts of escape. Whether she was held captive by Ryan Gentry or her two sisters mattered little, what she desired most of all was freedom. If freedom must be obtained by trickery and deceit, she would use cheating and trickery unblushingly. Looking at Fancy now she indulged herself with the satisfying vision of the younger girl in the bondage of what the box displayed. But she sighed and said, matter-of-factly, "I don't suppose this man Gentry will leave us alone. He enjoyed having me his prisoner, he'll want me back. He wants you too. Don't give him the faintest chance and if you must, go to the police. Promise?"
"Of course, I promise." Fancy nibbled her elder sister's nipples as though to cement a pack. "Darling, Angel and I have talked about you a lot. We've talked about training you so you'll be absolutely humble and obedient always. Is that too terrible?"
"I'm not going to say a thing, you'll hold it against me. No girl wants to be a prisoner and you know that without me saying it. I think you're being terribly unkind but I can't do a thing about it."
"We were thinking of getting a man to do, you know what, to you. Would you be terribly angry?"
"That's a rotten thing to do to your sister and I don't see what good it would do, it wouldn't prove a thing."
"But we could watch," Fancy's voice was breathless.
"If you introduce a man into this setup, he's not going to be satisfied with just roe. He's going to turn his attentions to you, too. Really, Fancy, I'm ashamed of you."
It was a breathless Angel who returned with tools. Genuinely unconcerned, but amused by their earnestness, Mia watched her younger sisters saw away at the padlocked link on one of her ankles. When it fell away in two separate parts, the band of links was immediately replace by one of the shining cuffs of their new leg irons. The same process was repeated with her other foot. The twins were cautious, aware of her superior strength. They did nothing without debate.
"I think we should hold her real tight so she can't jump us when her hands are free."
"Put her against the post in the basement room and tie her tether to it. That way she won't have a chance."
It was done. After much labor, Ryan's work of art fell from both Mia's wrists and from her waist. But the noose was tight upon her neck and after the handcuffs had clicked shut upon her wrists at her back, the twins availed themselves of her helplessness to play with her in outrageous ways until she cried aloud.
"Stop it! Stop it! You know what you're doing to me, you shouldn't, you know you shouldn't. If you keep on like this, I'm going to ... ohhhhh! Oh, damn!"
The twins brought their big sister to climax again and again as though in a clinical study. She could not resist either the clutch of steel or the evoked responses within her sex. What the twins lacked in experience they rapidly learned until their sister realized their control and ceased to fight. She belonged to them and that was the end of that.
That night Mia slept in her own bed, but her hands were cuffed behind her back, her feet wore the sliver leg irons and the familiar rope still tethered her in a manner she could not reach. Testing her bonds when she was alone, Mia realized her plight was much the same as on the previous evening. But at least the twins sexual antics were contrived, they were not the hard thrust of a male phallus with all its hazards, for this she was thankful.
The twins, when unsupervised, tended to sleep late. Their big sister had ample time in which to consider her captive. It was frightening to know she could be kept exactly as she was indefinitely. She could not deal with chrome restraints purchased commercially for control of male convicts, that inhibited her movements with miraculous ease and were impossible to escape. She tugged and twisted but these motions were no more than an expression of resentment against control.
At breakfast Mia was forgiven the degrading bowel upon the floor. Instead, she sat between her bright eyed sisters who took turns feeding her and lifting the coffee cup to her lips. The younger girls possessed that facility of close siblings of knowing each other's thoughts without need of utterance. Unfortunately they knew most of Mia's, too. She would never be able to hide much from them. They paid little attention to her sulky silence but bubbled over in their own delight.
"Just think of all the famous prisoners, darling. There was that one of some famous poet's, 'The Prisoner of Chillon,' and then there was that Anthony Hope's story, 'The Prisoner of Zenda,' and I'm sure there were lots more. Now we can call you 'The Prisoner of Dovecove Cottage.'"
"You can call me a fool for ever letting this happen."
"You look lovely when you pout, darling, don't stop. Don't you feel all excited about starting your lovely new life?"
"No, I don't."
"We could have left you in the villain's power, y'know," Angel giggled happily. "I wonder what the Mr. Gentry is thinking now? I bet he's sorry he didn't do that-that thing, you know the one, while he had you. Do you think he'll guess you're back with us?"
"Of course, he will. And you'd better watch for him. Look, you little idiots, if you insist on keeping me helpless like this, it's going to be you who's going to have to deal with him. He's had a taste of something he likes and he's not going to give it up easily."
"Taste of you, darling? How simply gorgeous!"
"He started a picture of me in those chains you saw and you can't expect him to not want to finish it. The guy's really as artist and you best not judge him by ordinary standards. Look, surely you can let me have my hand?"
Mia's plead was drowned by Fancy. "We've been talking about you, darling and what we can do with you. We've come up with the most scrumptious idea. We'll take off the leg irons but we'll leave your hands behind your back like they are and we'll take you over to Mr. Gentry's place real early in the morning and we'll lock you with a real heavy chain and a great big padlock to one of the trees in his garden. Then we'll hide and watch. When he starts on the job of getting you free we'll sort of casually walk back and confess we did it for a joke. Then we bring you home."
Mia was shocked by such blind optimism. "You're both crazy. Don't you realize the first thing Gentry would do is grab you. He can handle the two of you easily, so don't kid yourselves. I'd have to stand and watch the way you've made me helpless. And you have to remember all three of us would be trespassing on Gentry's property. Forget it!"
The twin's ardor was only momentarily dampened. "It would a bit of a bore, darling, if we don't do things with you. We could leave you just the way you are and let you wander around the house and I expect we will for a while. But all three of us are going to need a bit of spice." They eyed her brightly, "Suppose we fasten you the way you were out there in the woods to that tree. But this time it will be with a chain and padlock instead of rope and of course, you'll be handcuffed, you'll be a pretty package ready for delivery. Think how flustered that Mr. Gentry will be when he finds you and there's not a thing he can do."
"He'd think of something, he's a man and they know about such things. Look, if you want to play silly games like that, at least allow me clothes."
"Don't be silly, Mia dear, I'm sure you know you'll probably never wear clothes again."
It was all silly and hopeless but terribly real. But Mia accepted her captivity with the best grace she could. The youngsters were drunk with power and there was no point in provoking them into worse inflections than she now bore. There had already been hints about "lovely whippy canes" and a "dark, dark room in the basement."
Mia did not believe the twins would go to such lengths but could not be sure. The only defense she could think of was to be so passively obedient the twins would become bored and let her loose and pick up the thread of their former lives. Mia kept assuring herself it was only a couple of weeks since she had first been fastened to the tree. It was no great of span of lime. Something would happen.
Fate moved slowly. For four days Mia was compelled into more shames and humiliation than she would every have dreamed possible. The twins were infantile in invention and continued to hint at dark possibilities for disobedience. Mia Argent knelt, she crawled, she ate demeaningly from a plate upon the floor, she said "Yes, Miss" and "No, Miss" in bitter acceptance of something she could not change. The handcuffs and leg irons barred thoughts of liberty. The twins kept the keys well hidden and their elder sister found no argument by which they might be used. If Fancy and Angel were going to become bored with their prisoner, they showed no sign.
The fourth day brought the knock on the door.
Mia was in her bedroom, Angel in the kitchen. It was Fancy who answered the summons. A moment later there was a horrified cry from help, sounds of a scuffle, then silence. In fearful premonition, Mia went to the door and started the slow, shackled progress down the stairs. She had long since discovered it easier and safer to slitter on her bottom in a series of wiggles rather than walk down the stairs. She heard Angel's running steps, an exclamation, then the sounds as before. By the time she reached the hallway the two girls were prisoners and Ryan Gentry was beaming in satisfied accomplishment. He noted Mia's restraints and said, chidingly, "That's what I was going to get you if you'd stuck around. They suit you, you look charming."
"Mia, tell this idiot to let us loose," Fancy demanded.
"Look what he's done, I'm going to call the police," added Angel in heated pink-cheeked resolution.
Despite dismay and apprehension, Mia wanted to look. Gentry had come prepared. The twins sprawled upon the floor each with their right hand handcuffed to their left ankle. Handling them one at a time, Gentry's task had been simple. Neither girl had had a chance. There were now three forlorn maidens dependent upon the single male.
"You shouldn't have opened that door, y'know," Ryan shook his head as though disapproving of feminine intelligence. "You might have known I'd come a calling. I want to finish that picture."
The twins were busy with their handcuffs. From somewhere Ryan must have obtained an extra small size. The wrists of Angel and Fancy were slender indeed but the steel circlets were snug and tight against their disbelieving struggles. It was not easy for their elder sister to repress a smile. Instead, she said to Gentry, "Let them go. You mustn't take them prisoner." Her voice trailed away expectantly, "I suppose that's what you're going to do with me?"
"That's right, love, you've got the idea. That picture's on the stocks, waiting for us and there'll still be some light left. What I'm going to do with these little moppets will do them a world of good."
"But you can't possibly drag all three of us across the fields the way you dragged me!"
"Don't intend to, love. I brought the little van. I simply pop all three of you inside and drive home in triumph."
"We refuse to go. The idea is unthinkable. You're behaving like a mad man. You can't possibly collect girls the way you would stamps."
"Try me," Ryan said with a sniff, as though the scent of female indignation was a costly perfume. "I'll have the three of you over there in no time. Look at the way these two little so and so's are glaring at me. They need a lesson or two and by George, they'll get them!"
"Drop dead," said Fancy.
"You're out of your tree," Angel added with emphasis.
"See what I mean." Gentry invited Mia's attention to her sisters. "I'll have them polishing my shoes with their tongues before I'm through with them."
It happened swiftly. Ryan took the twins first. By the time he led Mia to her fate, he had one on each side of the van on narrow benches. Their previously free hands were now handcuffed to the sides, this with the joining of wrist and ankle below imposed total helplessness. Each was busy twisting and tugging and demanding of their elder sister, "Can't you make him do something. Can't you make him stop. Look what he's done to us!"
Mia was lifted to the seat beside the wheel. She supposed it an honor. She made only one brief communication to her fellow captives. Turning back to look over her shoulder, she said sharply, "Keep still, stop your whining. I'll as helpless as you are. And if you hadn't opened that door ..."
"That's my girl!" Gentry said approvingly as he started the motor. "Three chains of command, me, you and those two little moppets. I'll looking forward to attending to their backsides."
Mia's hands and feet had been joined so long that she had become accustomed to the steel restraints. She sat easily beside the driver and now stole a sideways glance at his self-satisfied grin. First the twins and then Gentry, had so conditioned her to shackled subservience that she could see humor in their plight. But Gentry was still an unknown quantity. He might be kind or cruel. He had spoken of holding her captive for two or three weeks. But if he could hold all three of them that long, there was nothing stopping him from confining them as long as he liked.
In sudden panic she said, "But Dovecove Cottage? What about it, we've left it empty?"
"Not to worry, love, we'll take a run over there every day or so and check things out. If you're a good girl, I'll take you with me. You don't mind riding like this, do you?"
"You know I have no choice. Look, Ryan Gentry, you're playing with fire, the police are bound to come looking for us."
"We've gone through all that before, love. Three is no different than one. The pictures I'm going to paint ... !"
"I've spoiled you by standing still that time," Mia said angrily. "I'll warn you now, Fancy and Angel won't stand still for you at all. You'll never get their cooperation."
"They will if I warm their little rumps."
Mia found the thought of pink and scarlet girl cheeks appealing. She felt ashamed but nonetheless, if Gentry did what he said, it was no more than they deserved. If he knew when to stop ...
"Don't suppose they've ever had a thrashing in their life, huh?"
"Of course not. Girls are not thrashed these days like dogs."
"More's the pity. Might thrash you too if you put on that haughty princess act you try to freeze me with. How's that grab you?"
Mia's blush was his answer. Mia was certain he was capable of making good his threat. She ignored the hazard and returned to her favorite topic. "It's beastly to keep me handcuffed and leg-ironed like I am now. Can't we come to some other arrangement?"
"No, we can't. I noticed the girls took the rope off your neck?"
"Yes, they did, it kept getting in the way and it wasn't doing any good anyhow. I tell you straight, Ryan Gentry, I'm getting sick of being fastened like a wild animal," Mia said disdainfully. "Look, I'll pose for your picture, I promise I will and you don't need to chain or tie me in any way, I'll stand up on your dais and strike any pose you want. If you'll just let the twins go home. What you've done to them already had taught them a lesson."
She got no answer. She guessed it would be negative anyway. Mia wiggled against the handcuffed to turn and view her sisters. They had stopped struggling and now sat, one hand chained against the side of the van, the other to their ankle. They were staring at each other in a sullen communion of alarm. What they had so gaily and thoughtlessly inflected upon their sister was not reality for them. Mia could guess their thoughts were sober.
It was all so easy, so quick, so simple as to be beyond believing. Gentry wasted no time. On arrival he picked up the girls, one at a time and took them away. They would not be difficult to imprison or control. Their freedom had vanished with the opening of the door of Dovecove Cottage. Within a matter of minutes Mia found herself standing on the dais in the studio watching her captor go through the artist's motions of painting a naked girl. Ryan was an unconcerned as if he had picked up the week's groceries instead of three live female prisoners.
"The difference in your chains doesn't matter," he explained thoughtfully. "I can paint in any chains that seem suitable to your condition. It's the girl mat counts. Like I said, you're absolutely perfect for this job."
There was little to say, it had happened before. Mia knew herself back at square one with the addition of the twins somewhere around the house.
Bluntly she asked, "What are you going to do to my sisters?"
Gentry took time to use his brush thoughtfully. "Got the little darlings in a nice, small bare room in the same spot they were in the van. One hand cuffed to the wall, the other to their ankle. I'll bet their talking their little heads off and wondering about you and me. Forget them and hold that pose."
Mia found herself in the grip of a strange inevitability, as thought she had always been destined to stand here in this condition. In two weeks of captivity, freedom had become too nebulous. It was no longer the reality, what was real was the handcuffs on her wrists and the leg irons on her ankles, they governed her whole existence now. They dictated obedience to this insouciant male. Mia Argent thought of freedom now only as an abstract improbability. She said to herself that Gentry would be a fool to free her of either of her bonds, they held her beautifully for his convenience.
Gentry's absorption with his painting robed the erotic situation of some of its potency. A clothed man and a naked girl would have but a single connotation in the public mind. Sex hung heavy in the air but it was in abeyance to male desire. Mia feared she was more heated in her loins than the artist. No matter how she tried, she could not suppress awareness of a man gazing intently at every crevasse and curve of her being. He arms held painlessly behind her back told her she was unquestionably at his disposal, she had little hope of having the bedroom to herself for long. Ryan Gentry would use her in his own good time, but this slight inflamed her the more. Standing thus was captivity with a capital "C," a far more potent captivity than being locked behind iron bars.
The ironed and naked captive wondered if, had she met Gentry socially, she would have given in to his request and stood as she was now? She could not believe it could have happened. Bui she remembered laughing assurances of other that, any girl with the right man in the right place, would remove her clothes, it was simply a matter of rapport. She toyed with this idea but discarded it. Girls just did not strip naked for men. There was, of course, the act of love. But this she did not want to consider. If it happened with her and Gentry it would come closer to an act of rape.
In the first rest period Mia asked for a cigarette but was refused. "No - damned bad for a girl. Does nothing for them either. I'll cure you of the habit." That was that! Mia was secretly glad but vouchsafed no more than a sulky pout, asking bitterly, "And bread and water for a diet, I suppose?"
"Not a bad idea, that. I've give it some thought. The picture's doing fine. By tomorrow I may let you look."
"Do you really sell them and get money?"
"If I don't then you won't get the bread with the water. And the twins will be down to an apple a day." Ryan laughed cheerfully, "Don't worry, I've got a following."
The cuffed girl became conscious of an intensification of the sexuality in the air now that the artist had stopped his painting. Ryan Gentry was looking at her with a quite different regard and bluntly voiced the thing within her mind. "I'm going to do it to you this evening. No reason why we shouldn't enjoy ourselves. You're a big girl and it won't be you first time." He paused and looked down searchingly. "Look, Mia, since we're going to be talking about it, whether you like it or not, what name should be use? There's a handful of them and I'm not fussy."
"I wish you wouldn't, please don't."
"You have to say that, sweetheart," Ryan conceded. "So now you've said it and got it off your chest, your conscious is free. Now about that name ..."
"I don't want to talk about it, it's horrible!"
"No, it isn't. And you know damned well it isn't. We English are a bunch of hypocrites about a piece of ass. The fuss we make ... !"
"You just think you have to do it to me because I'm your prisoner," Mia pointed out miserably. "I bet half us girls get laid because some idiot wants to prove he's masculine."
"You know damned well that wouldn't be the way with you and me."
"Well ... no, I suppose not. Although, considering the way you've got me helpless ... !"
"You know you're looking forward to it, you can't tell me different. Now, about that name ... ?"
"Call it anything you like, I don't care. It ends up with me being.
"You see! You needed a word right there and you didn't have one. C'mon, do you want us to use the good old-fashioned four letter word starting with 'F'?"
"No, I hate it. It's a beastly word."
"Intercourse?"
"Oh no, not that! It sounds so clinical, like getting a needle."
"OK, then, a piece of tail?"
"Oh, Ryan, stop it. I don't see why we have to call it anything. I don't see why we have to do it."
"If you don't act sensibly, sweetheart, I'm going to call it what it is, a fuck and I'll fuck you as long as it takes to get some sense into your pretty head."
"All right then, let's say you ravish me. We'll use the word ravish," Mia retorted angrily.
Ryan shrugged. "Well, if that's what you want, I'll ravish you. Where on earth did you pick up that fool word? It isn't even strictly true. It implies force."
"Well, what else do you call the way you've got me? Ryan, I'm going to pose again and you'd best get back to your ease! You're giving yourself an erection with all this erotic talk."
He appeared satisfied, returning to his brush and his oils. Mia stood blushingly conscious of having spoken of things she had never previously discussed so frankly with a man. As though having thought the matter over seriously, Ryan now queried, "Further to this affair of my ravishing you - gosh, that word really gets me! Are you going to lay down and spread your legs like a good little girl or do I have to rough you up first? I don't mind which."
"I don't want to talk about it, leave it be."
"Oh, what you're up against, sweetheart, is the old guilt complex. You have to feel that there's some way you can appeal to my better nature or perhaps kick me in the balls. Since you can't do either, I'm going to solve the problem for you by tying you spread-eagle on the bed. Loosely, of course, so you can wiggle and so there is enough slack for me to put a couple pillows under your hips. I hope you noticed I used the word 'hips.' I could have used another, those things have got quite a few names, too. I'm talking about your ass, darling."
It was as though they had settled something. Mia could think of no more to say that would not make her feel or look worse than she did already. Gentry, being totally in command, saw the matter as at a satisfactory conclusion. In his own time and in his own way he would ravish his charming prisoner. She would look delightful spread out upon the bed and safely tied. He would have to remove her irons and handcuffs, of course, but this would simple titillate her hope of release or escape. He made up his mind to give her these occasional possibilities of liberty. He would not rob her of hope. Mia's change of bondage would make an amusing interlude for them both. He plied his brush busily and with fresh vigor.
Mia posed quietly in her irons.