Chapter 3

Chained Trio

Mia Argent woke in drowsy satiety. Exhaustion and heavily taxed emotions had drifted her into sleep immediately had the Male abandoned her loins for his own bed. No doubt Gentry had been tired too, for he had left her bound exactly has she had been for her ravishment, his only concession to her comfort had been the removal of the pillows beneath her hips. She stretched lazily in the early morning sunlight and was thankful she had not been tied taunt for ravishment. Perhaps Ryan had decided to leave her bound as she was before he had started upon the expert play by which he had driven her to fever heat and an emotional pitch never previously known. At the commencement of their play, he had laughingly assured his spread-eagle victim of the potency of being bound thus and Mia had come to realize the truth of what he had said. This coupling with a man had been like no other. It had gone on and on and had extracted responses she had never guessed. She felt ashamed in having been so plaint to her master's will. But what else could she have done!

It had been so simple for the man. Ryan had dumped her squarely in the center of the bed, unlocked the irons from her feet and then bound her ankles to the far lower corners of the bed to stretch her outrageously and at the same time, render her helpless to fight when her hands were freed. The girl about to be ravished followed his every move in sulky silence. When the handcuffs followed the leg irons, she lay back in solemn obedience and extended her arms to have her wrists bound in the same manner as her ankles. Ryan took great care and obviously much pleasure in the binding. Mia's only complaint had been a futile, "You've got me obscenely stretched apart down there. Is it really necessary?"

"Can't have you crossing your legs, Love. You'll do just fine as you are."

Either one of her bindings would have rendered her helpless to Ryan's purpose. The bound girl was surprised by his willingness to forgo the pleasure of her arms or legs. She supposed he gained a greater satisfaction from having her bound and spread wide in maiden sacrifice. Kneeling between her parted thighs before mounting her, Ryan asked in jocular derision, "Don't you want to mention my mother? Tell me how disappointed she'd be at her darling boy right now? There's also the one about telling me the penalty for what I'm about to do to you is seven years hard labor. How about that?"

"Consider them said. Get on with it." Mia's ejaculation was bitter. Stretched out on her back now, in drowsy retrospect, Mia was ashamed, there had been no need for such irritability. Ryan Gentry had, with utmost gentleness, taken her into a wonderland of light and color and vivid sensation, the only flaw in which had been her inability to reciprocate with arms and legs. She dragged at her bindings to no avail, wishing to clasp them around this glorious male thing responsible for an ecstasy she had not previously known. She supposed he ravished all his models and was thus highly experienced, but still ...

Her climax was nothing more than a prelude. Her ravishment went on and on until she hoped it would never end. When it did she lay, gasping and replete, to receive his kiss upon her red and swollen lips. She had only the vaguest memory of their sundering before Gentry left her for the night. She wished he had slept with his head upon her bound and naked arm or upon her breast rising and falling so tumultuously, her breasts with which his fingers and his tongue had worked such magic.

Mia Argent sighed, debating whether to return to sleep or continue the dreamy reminisces of the night before. Once again she stretched in feline pleasure and playfully tugged and twisted in a simulated panic to get free. It was then she noticed her left hand was not as tightly tied as was her right, somewhere within the binding of her wrist was an unexpected slack ... !

The bound girl froze in disbelieve, a wild hope setting her pulse to racing. She had cherished no hope of escape while spread-eagled. It seemed unlikely he could have made a mistake or that her struggles during the couplings had been more productive than supposed. But it was there! Unmistakably there was the faintest of looseness as compared to her other limbs. In a feverish hope Mia Argent went to work!

It was wickedly frustrating. Looseness there might be but nonetheless she could not withdraw her hand nor twist her hand to make the slight slack more evident. Her fingers could reach nothing, they sought uselessly for knots but the bit of leeway Gentry had deliberately allowed was not enough to aid her in escape. The naked girl lay rigid, her mind racing with ways and means, while her arms worked this way and that towards a dubious freedom. Slack was there, she was sure of it, she twisted and turned in fluid motion until every portion of her nudity was involved in the effort to exploit the tiny slackness. She was working against time. She knew it early morning, but how early! It would be heart breaking for Gentry to come and find her with one hand nearly free, she could, not bare the thought.

It took more than an hour for hope to become reality. A loop slipped and little by little her frantic tugs and twistings slid her hand through its loops to freedom. When it was done she held her freed member before her eyes in incredible disbelief. If she could free one hand she could free two! And then her feet ... ! Mia wasted no time but went instantly go work.

Once more frustration. She had a free hand but discovered it could reach nothing. Certainly it could not reach her feet but surely it should be able to reach her right hand still firmly bound! She turned upon her side, reaching, straining, giving the effort all she had but her questing fingers fell short of the rope around the wrist of her right hand. The rope binding her left ankle held her nakedness so she could not exploit the advantage which should have brought release. Tears of despair and defeat brimmed her eyes and in a frenzy of animal anger, she tore and twisted her sweating nakedness enough to shake the bed. When she desisted, panting, the fingers of her freed left hand where touching rope!

Once more frustration was Mia's reward. Her frantic struggles had gotten her into a position in which, under infinite stress, she had achieved her goal but her fingers still failed to find the vital knots. That took time and further angry surging against her bonds. She sacrificed her left ankle to her needs, tugging and straining it painfully to gain an inch, but maiden ingenuity prevailed, unexpectedly, her fingertips found a knot and began their task. By the time she found herself possessing two hands in a way she had not done for a couple of weeks, she was wet with sweat and her first gesture was utterly feminine; it was to tidy her hair.

This done, she surveyed her still-bound feet. Like all the rest, it should have been easy but was not. They were stretched so wide apart at the foot of the bed that at first she could touch neither. It was only after twisting contortions her fingers could again be profitably employed in the gaining of freedom. By the time her left leg was free of cords she was panting in near exhaustion but dared not delay. Mia turned the attention of two now free hands towards a liberty she now believed assured.

It was at that moment Ryan Gentry walked into the room.

It was too, too cruel. The naked girl, now held captive only by a single foot, looked up at her ravisher in despair. A few more minutes and she would have been free and out of the house, speeding to freedom and help. Now, because of a few strands of rope, she would return to chains and slavery. She allowed her hands to fall at her sides as she sat facing the grinning man, one foot stretching towards the corner of the bed and still tightly bound. She could have wept.

"Going for a walk, sweetheart?" Gentry inquired affably. "Good thing I happened by. Maybe I can help?"

Mia could no longer deny her tears, they broke their floodgates and she buried her face in her so recently freed hands. Between sobs she accused, "You did this on purpose, you deliberately gave me hope. Now look what you've done! I suppose you'll tie me up horribly as some sort of punishment."

Gentry waited for the storm of weeping to subside, he drank in the lovely curves of the distraught girl as she sobbed bitterly in the despair of defeat. When her last sob trailed away he possessed himself of her arms and clicked tight the handcuffs on the wrists behind her back. Then, with an immaculate square of linen, he dried her cheeks and kissed her trembling lips as lovingly as the night before. Thoughtfully he said, "I'm going to ravish you again."

It was a repetition of the night before, but this time Mia was secured by only one leg. True she had no hands, she was laying upon them as they did their best to find comfort behind her back, but she had a greater freedom and used it to the fall. She accused herself of inconsistency in the joy and ecstasy now bestowed compared with the bitter anguish of defeat when she had been so close to liberty. But she gave up reasoning in a total yielding of herself to this man who now, for all she cared, could keep her prisoner forever.

After they had slept she sat up in bed and watched the freeing of her right ankle. It was too late now, it did not matter, her handcuffed wrists told her it no longer mattered. As though to wallow in helplessness she said, "Don't forget my leg irons, I'm a slave, remember?"

She watched the clicking of the chrome bands around her ankles then was surprised by the freeing of one wrist, the transferring of her arms from back to front and the relocking of the cuffs in front.

"You can make us breakfast, sweetheart, no reason why I should. These little things on your wrist won't hinder you at all."

"Can I have an apron?"

Ryan shook his head almost sadly over the request. "You girls, anyone would think being naked hurt. I suppose Freud had an explanation but I'm damned if I have."

"Ryan, don't be mean, females always wear clothes. The only reason you keep me naked is to appease your carnal lust. You men are worse than us in your hang-ups." She flounced her naked bottom at him, almost jauntily, as she retired to the bathroom.

It was pleasant to be domestic again and possess her hands enough to actually do things with them. Mia knew Ryan watched her every move, not in suspicion but in the enjoyment of an artist envisioning pictures. He would always do this so it was useless to complain. Perhaps she should complain only if he stopped. Mia glimpsed the possibility of she and her two sisters vying for this man's affections and attention. Being ravished would send them into transports of delight, even if the first time hurt. She could imagine the little moppets pleading for the male phallus rather than screams of protest at being ravished. They might easily outclass her in riveting male interest. She also saw them as her Achilles Heel and purposely refrained from inquiring about them. No doubt they were safely secured somewhere around the house. She got her apron for the cooking and saw it as a minor victory.

While they ate she once more accused Gentry of deliberately contriving the freedom of one of her wrists so she could achieve a partial escape in time to be caught and once again cuffed. He shrugged noncommittally and told her of how such incidents could enliven her captivity in times to come. There would always be the hope of her getting the best of him and making her way into the open air, it was a risk he was prepared to take. Laughing at her frustration, he encouraged her to seek and use every pretext she could to this end. It would keep him on his toes. He promised no reprisals, any captive was entitled to an escape attempt. They went together, almost in a mood of gaiety to begin his artists day. Mia's hands were once more locked behind her back.

It was different now. In the indefinable way no one can explain they had become one. The man had penetrated her sheath and she had responded. Nothing could be quite the same again. Mia knew she was posing to perfection, sensed it from the glances he gave her constantly around the canvass on which he worked, sensed it in the rising tide of her own pulse. It was not until they stopped for a noon break Gentry mentioned the twins. "I'll bet you'd like to have a look at them," he suggested. "They really are a pah. I can hardly wait to finish this picture of your before I get at them. I'm still trying to think up a pose for them."

"Why not the two of them in a cage?"

He laughed at her acerbic suggestion and threw open the door. The twins greeted their visiting sister with indignant demands.

"Get us out of here, Mia! He'll listen to you, he won't to us. Oh, darling, please make him treat us properly, this is awful."

Both were naked. Mia realized it had been several years since she had last seen them bare. They had grown up and nudity had become something you did not share as once you had. They were standing a few feet apart, their crossed bound wrists above their heads, tethered from the ceiling. The left foot of each had been bent up from the knee and tied to its owner's thigh. They stood on one leg like a pair of indignant storks.

"Pretty, yes? Nothing like standing on one leg to make a girl see sense. I'm wondering if I should paint them like this, but it's probably strong for the galleries. Make a damned good item for a private collection."

Mia's heart went out to them. They looked hot and tired and disheveled, they looked as she had often felt. Automatically she pleaded, "Ryan, please, at least let them have both their feet? That must be awful the way you've got them now."

"That's right Mr. Gentry," the youthful voices were in complete unison. "Please give us back our feet, this is awful."

They exchanged maiden glances and added, "If you'll give us back our feet we'll promise to be ever so good, honest we will."

"Couple of little twisters," Gentry observed casually. "Can't believe a word they say, can't trust them an inch. They'd cozen a man out of his pants if he gave them a chance. Want me to cane their bottoms? It's as good a time as any."

"Oh, no!" Mia's instant exclamation was echoed by the pair. They were still taking everything Ryan Gentry said with extreme seriousness If he had said he was going to slice them up and cook them for dinner, they would have believed him.

"Oh, Mia, we don't want to be whipped; we haven't done anything. Besides we haven't been whipped and I'll bet it hurts something awful."

Mia managed a more gentle, "Please, Ryan, don't be mean. I know you're teasing them but they don't understand. Please don't whip them. I think whipping a girl is horrible, especially on her bare skin."

Ryan untied the doubled up legs to enable their owners to stand with both feet upon the floor. There was sighs and much profound thanks. But, when the maiden appeals became too ardent with "Mia, darling, please persuade Mr. Gentry to let our hands down too, we're so tired," the big sister was hurried out of the door and out of sight to leave her youthful siblings to a continuing conditioning. Mia was glad when Gentry closed the door to put an end to wailing protests. She said, "I'm afraid they haven't been very well brought up."

"They'll be well brought up now, love." Gentry kissed her forehead before leading her to the kitchen. "I bet you I have to redden those little asses before I get them to take things seriously. They're feeling sorry for themselves right now but not sorry enough. Come on, I'm hungry now and we've got all afternoon of good light yet to use for painting."

Mia knew herself adrift on an uncharted sea. She could control nothing and knew not of what fate she was led. After her experience of the previous night and again this morning she was pleasantly numb to life, nothing hurt, things flowed in an ordered sequence, a sequence ordered by a man she was trying hard not to hold in affection. Ryan Gentry was a Force, a force she could neither control nor understand. Perhaps this was the way with girls under the dominion of a male, they simply ceased to care, the man could make the decisions and do the work! In a way they had it made.

But Mia's mind retained a vision of her younger sisters, naked, their arms tied up above their heads, their faces pink in shame and dismay. She asked, "Ryan, must you strip them naked? It's not right, you know, they're only fourteen."

"Seems to me they stripped you. I didn't notice you wearing anything the first time I saw you."

"But that was different, it was between girls, you're a man! You shouldn't be seeing any of us naked."

"Too late now," Gentry chuckled. "I suspect the trauma passes in the first five minutes. I haven't noticed you blushing in the last hour."

"And the way your eyes keep dwelling on our ... on our ... our things. Really ... ! Do you have to be so crude?"

Gentry had tired of feminine complaint. With an easy sweep of his arms he picked up his hobbled model and carried her to the studio. There he placed her solidly on the dais and told her to behave herself. Since there was little else she could do, Mia struck the pose and held it while allowing her mind to wander. She supposed the twins and herself might as well resign themselves to two or three weeks captivity and then a return to their normal life. She wondered if Ryan might call one afternoon for tea ... ! The whole thing was absurd.

On the afternoon of the following day Gentry asked, "What to look?"

Mia wanted to look badly, she had been consumed by curiosity from the start. She loathed the attempts of amateurs and had secretly prayed that Gentry was as skillful as he said. It had become custom for Ryan to pick her up bodily now rather than to compel her to take the short steps required by the leg irons, he did so now, dumping her erect at the correct distance from the easel and the canvass. Mia's heart was pounding hard. She did not understand why but knew only a tremendous excitement.

It was pure wonder, a glimpse of the ineffable, the canvass glowed with all the light and color in the world and all the loveliness of a thousand girls. Mia gasped in startled awe and found herself gazing at a picture so compelling as to be beyond reality. She saw herself as she might have been three thousand years ago, sold by auction on the block and staring in dismay at the features of the male who was the highest bidder. Her handcuffs and leg irons had become the shackles of the period but all else was purely and simply "Mia." Gentry had captured every nuance of what she was or could ever be, every response of muscle and flesh and limb, to produce a loveliness ... The quintessence of man's desire.

Ryan Gentry was touched too, not so much by the picture of his creation but by the model who inspired it. He was studying Mia's enraptured features in a total absence of carnality. What he saw was a beautiful girl who's features had the power to evoke images and cause a man to dream. Quietly he said, "I see you like it."

"Oh, Ryan, it's ... it's almost too much. It's terribly beautiful and so wonderfully real. I - I - Oh. Oh, Ryan, thank you, thank you!"

"Bit too real for the Purists, I suspect," Gentry observed. "But piss on them, that picture is worth a fortune and somebody will pay it. That is if I want to part with it. I'm not sure that I do."

The enchanted girl knew it a moment in her life after which nothing would be quite the same again. Ryan's picture of herself and infected her with the magic of beauty and the vision of it few ever knew. She was flattered and breathless and excited, her captivity forgotten. Looking at Ryan's picture Mia Argent was prepared to be a captive all her life in such a cause. As usual, she longed for her hands when she was again picked up and carried to the little platform upon which, by some strange witchery of her own, she had inspired a man to create a masterpiece to outlive them both.

Mia Argent knew nothing had changed but in her heart everything had changed. The picture had transported her to a pinnacle of ecstasy she might never find again. But she comforted herself with the realization of Gentry's undoubted genius. There would be other pictures, many of them and she wanted to be in every one. She tugged at her handcuffs now only to reassure herself they held her where a miracle could happen.

There was a day and a half of what Ryan called "finishing off" before he announced his intention of going into town to purchase more restraints, especially for the twins, for who he held great plans. Ryan bemoaned the impossibility of purchasing ancient shackles and irons, but consoled himself with the knowledge that they would not fit such youthful slenderness as he sought to control. He spoke to Mia teasingly of straps and cords as well as chains. The last item on his list was a whip. He watched her features as he spoke of it but softened the impact by teasing, "There's no way we can ever control those young bundles of mischief unless I establish authority. A few marks on their skin will do it. You can watch and see if I'm not right."

"Can't I come to London with you Ryan, I promise I'll behave. I'll give you my parole?"

"You and your parole!" Gentry laughed at her eagerness, "You'll have to forgive me, but I can't quite place stock in that parole of yours. There's too much at stake. You'd forgive yourself for breaking it by saying it was for Fancy and Angel." Gentry shrugged and gestured indifferently. "You can blame my lack of faith but there'll be other trips to London and after I know you better ..."

Mia refused to prod, she preferred to drift with her euphoric tide. Instead she asked, "What about me while you'll gone?"

"You can stay as you are, love. I've fixed the twins so that you can't free them. Apart from that you've got the run of the house. If you want to walk back to Dovecove in your present condition, you're welcome to do so. I'm betting you won't." He took her in his arms and kissed her fiercely, then patted her bottom with tenderness. "Goodbye. Be a good girl."

Mia suspected Ryan slammed his front door on purpose to signal a new relationship. Without him the house had a terrible silence. The ironed girl shivered in helplessness, then cast the mood aside realizing she could walk where ever she wished, even if slowly with short, snubbed steps and much clinking. Her first thought was to find and examine the picture of herself. But after the laborious climb up the stairs she found the door locked. Evidently Gentry cherished his privacy, perhaps he didn't trust her with things she knew must be dear to his heart. She shrugged and clinked her way in search of her younger sisters. She had no appetite for their importunities but felt responsible. At least it would be amusing to see the manner in which Gentry had them constrained.

She found them still captive them in the bleak little room she had seen previously. They sat morosely against opposite walls, nude and disconsolate. They greeted her arrival with cries of joy and instantly leapt erect to show her the circle of chain around their tummies and its trailing length leading to the padlock and ring on the wall. "He's got us so we can't even leave the room, darling. Please unfasten us. Hurry!"

It was so typical Mia had to laugh. They were so young, so eager, so concerned only with their own condition. She turned to demonstrate her handcuffed wrists then kicked her own shackled feet and asked, "How do you suppose I'm going to get you free? You're a lot more free than I am."

"No you're not, you can wall around. Has he set you free?"

Their bright eagerness was infectious. "Yes, I'm free if you call having handcuffs locked on my wrists and leg irons locked to my ankles free. It doesn't seem to me I'm free at all."

"But, darling, you can go back to Dovecove. You can go home!"

"Can I? Think a bit. I'm naked and I can take only little short steps. Someone's sure to see me and that means the police. None of us need the police in on this. We'd all be so terribly embarrassed and ashamed. No one would believe a word we said. The News of the World would come out with headlines about sex orgies in the Counties."

"We don't mind a bit just so long as we get free. Please, darling, get these chains off us, any way you can."

It took a little time as Mia explained patiently the dilemma holding all three of them in its grasp. Listening to her consul of making the best of it for two or three weeks, they viewed her with suspicion. "I'll bet you're in love with him, I'll bet he sleeps with you every night, that's why you don't care!"

Mia tried to shrug it off. "Even if that's true, it's none of your business. You can start complaining if he takes you to bed."

The vision invoked obviously interested the moppets. "Oh, darling, will he! I mean, what should we do? We've never been fucked. Does it hurt?"

They were impossible. Their emotions vacillated from moment to moment. This was dangerous ground, Mia would gladly skirt the subject. She was genuinely fearful of Gentry's casual acceptance of feminine favors. His attitude was quite probably a wish not to waste or ignore the three female bodies he possessed. If he slept with one, why not all three! Cross with herself for having no answer, she retorted, "Don't talk such nonsense. He's been painting my picture and will probably paint some of you. If he does I'd advise you to stand still the way he wants."

"He told us this morning he's going to London to buy a whip to use especially on us."

Two pairs of youthful eyes assessed their sister. "Will he really whip us if we don't do as he says?"

"I don't know. Honest, I don't."

"He hasn't whipped you." Suspicion was implicit. "We bet he doesn't have to. You're in love with him. You'll stand any way he wants you to." There were two youthful giggles. "You probably lay down for him at the drop of a hat. You're so lucky, he isn't treating us nicely at all."

"Does the thought ever enter your selfish little heads that you didn't treat me very nicely when you had me prisoner and tied to that tree?"

"Oh, that!" The twins dismissed her question as big sister sophistry. "You know you enjoyed it, we did. All three of us had a lot of fun."

"In that case you'd better look upon your condition now as being a fun thing. I don't see much difference."

Fancy and Angel sniffed and looked guilty. "Oh, alright, I suppose we shouldn't have done it to you. If we'd never chained you up like that this whole adventure would never have happen. Sure you've rubbed that in enough but it's simply horrid of you to tell us we're getting our just deserts." There was a lengthy pause. "Mia, darling, will he really whip out bottoms?"

The big sister finally tired of adolescent anguish. The twins were understandably bored, irritated and probably frightened, but their concerns were wholly selfish. Their instant assumption of her sleeping with Ryan Gentry, even though true, irked. It put them one up on her in the matter of virtue. Mia could not help being irritated by their obvious conviction that she could do something to set them free, perform some magic act and the chains would fall away. They saw her chains as mere nothing but their own as being heavy and secured to the point of being cruel. They complained bitterly of being attached to opposite walls. They had the grace to blush when complaining of being able to do no more than reach out and touch hands and being unable to do any more of what they described as "nice things." Mia promised to return but in the meantime shuffled and clinked her way from the small prison compartment with its chained and vocal nymphets. Their plaints followed her up the passage.

Faced with a day of helpless idleness, Mia toured the premises, stuck her head out the back door to get fresh air, but then retired to lay upon her bed; being chained wasn't half as bad for a girl if she lay face down She went to sleep.

Mia Argent must have slept a long time, she awoke, bemused, to an amazed feminine declaration, "Well, I'll be damned, he's got them all over the place! Who the hell are you, darling?"

Mia sat erect and startled. But here was hope! Here was a fellow female who would obviously set her free. She felt ashamed in her nakedness which the woman was regarding with obvious relish. Mia was quick to explain, "My name is Mia Argent, I don't think we've met ... ?"

The woman laughed a short and bitter laugh. "You're damned right we haven't met, sweetheart, I don't know you from Adam or Eve." She continued her interested study of a girl in chains, then dropped her bomb. Staring the captive girl squarely in the eye, she spoke with utmost clarity.

"I'm Mrs. Ryan Gentry."