Chapter 6
The Mark of the Cane
If the contrived tableau had been erotic before it was doubly so now. Angel was exuding emanations of apprehension in waves. Her facial expression was deserving of a canvass of its own. The slender nudity made small, ineffectual tugs against chained feet, the arm she tentatively extended was visibly trembling. The palm to be punished was by no means taut. Mia's heart went out to her younger sister. She was sure the teenager was unconcerned with her appearance but she was delivering to The Master such a vision of innocence in distress as to touch the heart. Whether Angel was guilty or innocent mattered not at all. She was simply the epitome of every maiden who's shrinking hand had ever been caned by a headmaster or mistress. What Ryan was doing was plucking an erotic moment from the past.
It had a predestined quality. The master's cane rapped sharply against the reluctant hand. "Open up, stretch it taut, Angel." The swift slash which followed Angel's obedience caused Mia to wince and cringe and Angel to emit a startled cry of shock and pain. Her punished hand flew to the refuge of a maiden armpit and was hugged desperately in an effort to assuage agony and to protect the injured member from another stroke. Angel doubled up, clutching herself, oblivious to all else. Mia was familiar with the world of pain in which whipped girls find strange solace. She looked, hopefully, at Ryan. Perhaps he was playing the same trick upon Angel as he had with her; one single stroke after the promise of far, far more. But evidently she was privileged, Angel was not. The pseudo school master rapped the bare, bent shoulder of the make-believe delinquent maiden in admonition, "Come, Angel, my dear, that was number one. Now I want to stand up and hold out your hand for number two. If you behave sensibly it will still be over after only four strokes."
Mia gave him points. Gentry was putting on a superb act, partly for her benefit, mostly for his own. The now-sobbing nudity received no benefit at all other than the character building quality of punishment. Gentry's voice was affectionate, "Come, come now, Angel, don't delay. I can advance your punishment, you know. You will be a sensible girl to keep it at two strokes for each hand instead of more."
Quite evidently Angel agreed with him. Angel, for all her tears and facial expression proclaiming an impossible to bare situation, was no fool. Slowly and with reproachful glances at all present, she stood erect and extended her, as yet, uninjured hand. Tears streaked her cheeks and touched her elder sister's heart. But tears were implicit in what was being done and you can never be sure just how real tears might be with the twins. A moment later came the whine, the swishing yellow arc, then the impact on the offered hand. Angel's yelp of dismay crinkled Mia's spine, she winced as though the blow had been upon the palm of her own hand. Impatiently she watched the punished nymphet bend forward, this time with a hand under each armpit, making hurt-animal sounds. Clinking her shackled way backward, Angel retreated until she came against her sister. Falling to her knees, she clasp Mia's legs with wounded, throbbing hands and proclaimed, "Mia, don't let him hit me anymore. I can't stand the pain. I just can't." The plea ended in a wail of anguish.
Mia met the master's gaze. She could tell Ryan realized he had gone far enough. As though the two adults had read each other's thoughts, Mia said, "Don't worry, Angel, Mr. Gentry is very kind. I'm sure if I ask him to cane me instead of you, he will do that for us. Come now, darling, does that make you feel better?"
From the sobbing nymphet, whose face was buried between Mia's thighs, came the almost inarticulate response, "You mustn't, I won't let you. It hurts too much. You haven't got any idea how much it hurt."
Once again Mia exchanged a questioning glance with the man who had now replaced the cane upon the desk. This time it was Ryan who came forward with a face-saving compromise, "Come on now, Angel, I won't cane your hand any more if you prefer Fancy to have the other two strokes instead of you. Do you want to run down and ask her?"
Mia felt the tensing of the nudity between her legs. She waited breathlessly for Angel's response. When it came it was a weak and sniffling, "Oh, all right then! I'll get up and hold my hands out again but I don't think you're being a bit nice. I'm not sure I like you anymore."
Gentry shrugged and tossed Mia a square of white cambric with which she tenderly dried Angel's tears and cheeks. Angel then used it to blow her nose as though venting injured feelings. The youngster got slowly to her feet, handed the wet wad back to its owner, then took her position once again, her arm extended pathetically, its small palm wide open for the cane.
Mia knew the twins unpredictable. She could scare believe what happened now. True, the cane cut with lesser severity, but after the impact Angel's arm fell limply at her side and failed to move. Without any additional signs of distress the youngster extended her other arm to receive the last of the four strokes. When Ryan's cane impacted for the last time, Angel ran her shackled course back to her sister who longed most ardently for arms with which to comfort the punished girl. By twisting and contorting she had contrived to use the handkerchief to dry Angel's tears but an embrace was impossible. All she could do was bend and kiss the sobbing girl, believing she could actually feel the throbbing pulse in injured palms as Angel held them hard against her skin as though sharing a pain too great to bare alone. Ryan shook his head and shrugged. He and Mia would discuss this alone later. He waited for girlish grief to run its course then said, "You may rejoin Fancy now, Angel. I want you to fasten yourself the same as Fancy. You know the drill, run along."
Angel ran along but, half way to the door, turned, hesitant and shamed-faced. "Thank you for caning my hands, Sir." in a swirl of chain she continued her retreat.
Mia half suspected that Ryan must have previously instructed the girl to make the last unnatural gesture of thanks, but she did not ask. Absurd as it might be she could not fail to see the cane upon the desk. There had been no mention of it being used upon her but it was very much THERE. So long as it was convenient to the master's hand, it would be best to be circumspect in her behavior. Ryan laughed, perhaps reading her thought, then picked her up and carried her away.
A couple of days later, while Mia posed and Ryan painted, he chose to revive the question of her imprisonment. "I'm holding on to you, Mia, for a reason you don't suspect," he said slowly while preoccupied with his brush. "I'm using you and the twins as bait to see how long it is before Melody makes her appearance."
Mia almost broke pose. Surprised she asked, "But what has Melody got to do with me being your prisoner? In fact, why would Melody come here at all?"
"To be whipped, of course, I thought you knew." Ryan assured cheerfully, "The poor girl gets bothered if she isn't whipped regularly and it's been some time."
Mia was startled. She retained a vivid mental picture of seeing Melody whipped. She was certain it was something she could never forget. But Ryan had to be facetious in what he had just said, it surely was not possible. Uncomprehending, she said, "You're joking, Ryan, she couldn't possibly!"
The artist at his easel spared his puzzled model a sympathetic grin. "My fault, really," he admitted cheerfully. "I laced into her quite a bit when we were married, she's the most irritating female there is. I used to whip her then take her to bed. The results was always fireworks. Being whipped made what you call 'her ravishment' twice as good for her as it had ever been. It became habit forming." He shrugged depreciatingly and dabbed at his palette. "Took me quite a while to catch on. You saw the marvelous way she accepts being whipped? Well, she wasn't that way at the start. She used to kick and yell as much as any girl would. But something took hold, something I can't explain and I don't suppose it matters anyway. After a couple of years I discovered she was provoking me on purpose. The longer I kept the whip away from her the harder she prodded. After I'd been testing her two or three weeks, she got pretty desperate. She withdrew quite a bit of money from our account and bought herself a mink coat, flaunting it at me like a red flag to a bull. It was then I realized what had happened to Melody and what it was she wanted. Not so much wanting but needed. Melody had got herself into such a state, or maybe it was my fault, but if she didn't get whipped often she because unhappy and impossible to live with. So I simply bought a whip that didn't mark her too badly and simply thrashed her regularly. I never let on that I'd figured out her little game, that would have spoiled it for her. I'll be very surprised if she doesn't show up soon and do something stupid enough to put her in the wrong and make me angry enough to give her another thrashing."
Mia's mind raced. Supposing her impossible dream came true and she became Mrs. Ryan Gentry, how was she going to feel if her husband thrashed another woman regularly, a woman who had been his wife! It was too utterly bizarre. To gain time she retorted, "I don't believe a word of it. A girl couldn't possibly ..."
"Take it or leave it, sweetheart," Ryan said offhandedly. "If I knew some fellow I didn't like, I'd introduce him to Melody and get her off my hands, she's a real pain in the ass and a lousy model."
The conversation drifted to other topics. Mia was finding herself more and more concerned, not so much with her imprisonment, but about what Ryan's intentions towards her could truly be. She wanted him fiercely. If the way to his heart was to be whipped, she would accept, even welcome, such an end to indecision. She could not help seeing Melody as a menace. Ryan professed nothing but disgust for his former wife, but if Melody was as persistent as he said, then she would indeed be a formidable adversary. She could not bare the thought of she and the twins being sent packing across the fields to Dovecove and Melody once more reigning as Ryan's queen or Ryan's prisoner. With Ryan Gentry the terms appeared synonymous. In the meantime she was shamed and guilty in a constant condition of lustful longing for the man who held her prisoner. In her rational moments she freely admitted to herself the whole thing was nuts!
But frank admission and wry reflections changed nothing. Mia Argent remained with her hands cuffed behind her back and her feet baring the clinking of leg irons. She sometimes wondered what it would be like to be free. She suspected it would be a disappointing let down, an anticlimax to a situation still to flower and blossom into full bloom. She was sure that Ryan would not be satisfied with the painting of sufficient slavegirl pictures for a gallery showing. He would want more from her. The handcuffs told her this. But what he would want was still an unknown quantity. Whenever Mia, in her bondage felt bored, she allowed her mind to dwell upon this imponderable and was rejuvenated with a surge of lust.
Melody made her play almost exactly as Ryan had predicted. The master had hurriedly departed for the village to replenish a couple of colors he had allowed to run short and in an absent minded sort of way, tethered Mia's neck with the old, familiar rope to a ring well up on the studio wall. They both knew it a piece of whimsy which would discomfort her for no more than an hour. In parting Mia stuck her tongue out at him and received a carnal wink in return. Resignedly she lent her pinioned arms against the wall and allowed her mind to dwell upon the things she and Ryan did together in his bed. He was a highly skillful lover, allowing her no initiative, but forcing her to every compliance, a condition which simply increased her desire for him.
Within ten minutes Melody walked through the door.
"I simply had to come, Mia, I couldn't stay away any longer. Ryan's kept you and the twins twice as long as he said. I hope you don't mind me butting in?"
Mia straightened up and was well aware of limiting helplessness in the face of visitors. "It's nice of you to be concerned about us, Melody," she said as heartily as she could. "But aren't you taking a awful risk, coming her like this?"
"Don't worry, Mia, I've just watched him dash off to the village, he Won't be back for a while. Look, I've got to get you free whether you want to be or not. And the twins, too. I looked in on them on the way up. He's got them chained as usual." The ex-wife sighed, "He always makes things so difficult for a girl."
"But, Melody, you can't possibly get us free, you don't have the keys."
"Yes, I can. Look, I went to the store and bought this on the way here." Melody opened her bag and in triumph, held up a flat file, about ten inches long. "See! And he thinks he's so smart."
Mia wanted to laugh, it was hard to repress the giggle the file evoked. She suspected it would not even scratch the chrome by which she was secured and kept captive. It was easy to understand why a female this dense could irritate a man like Ryan Gentry. Quietly she suggested, "I'm not sure it will work, Melody, but go ahead anyway. What are you going to start on?"
With a fine flourish Melody undid the rope tether and threw it aside. With an air of having accomplished half her mission, she led Mia to a chair, seated her and then arranged her handcuffed wrists to give some stability while she worked. The girl in the handcuffs was thankful she was not aching to escape. Had her life depended upon this filing away of her bonds, the moment would have been tense indeed. Instead she waited quietly while Melody got to work.
"I think that man in the store swindled me," Melody said indignantly. "Here I've been working away like a horse and I haven't made a mark. Do you know how to use a file, Mia?"
"I'm afraid a file like that won't touch the metal handcuffs are made of, Melody," Mia said gently. "I think you need some things called bolt cutters."
"What's a bolt cutter?" Melody asked irritably. "Are you telling me I've got the wrong thing?"
Melody was furious, she flung the offending file against the far wall but announced, "Very well then, I'll have to find the keys. I'm determined to get you loose. You can't stay here any longer."
The safely chained Mia looked assessingly at this girl who was a competitor for Ryan Gentry's affections. She saw only a quite lovely but stupid girl fighting frustration. Once more she said, "Melody, I'm scared for you. If he comes back, you know what will happen and I really don't know where he keeps the keys, they are probably in his pocket. You might search for hours."
"Well, I'm going to look anyway," Melody affirmed defiantly. "If we can't find them, I'll have to take you just as you are. You've sat in cars often enough in that condition, once more won't make any difference."
Mia sighed. She had no wish to be kidnapped by this girl again. It had happened once disastrously, a second try would fair no better. "There's still the twins," she pointed out reasonably, "I can't possibly leave them behind. If they stay, I stay."
"We'll see about that," Melody said. She looked at her watch. "I can spare five minutes for a search. That's much the best thing. If I can unlock you all, we can go laughing. Gosh, I'd love to see Ryan's face!"
Chained feet prevented Mia from keeping pace with her would-be rescuer. It was hard to believe Ryan's theory that Melody was doing this in a subconscious wish to be whipped. But, of course, getting she and her sisters out of the way would indeed leave a clear pathway to the man she desired. Mia sighed again. Instead of following her rescuer she went to visit the captive twins. She found them painlessly but frustratingly constrained. Each of them had a single wrist handcuffed to the wall. As usual, when she came into view, their response was vociferous.
"Oh, Mia darling, look what he's done to us now. Please get us loose."
Their demands were always engagingly absurd. It should have been obvious that, if she could not free herself, she could not free them. But, in the eyes of Angel and Fancy, she was the big sister, omnipotent and knowing all things. Their barrage continued.
"You'll have to hurry, Mia. I'm sure you can find a key if you look. That silly Melody woman was in her a minute ago. Gosh, she's dumb!"
"But I don't have the keys and I can't get them. That means we're, all of us, still prisoners," Mia chided severely. "You two really have the quaintest ideas."
The twins rattled their chained wrists. "But look, darling, it's only one hand. See, we can jiggle them up and down but, for some reason, they won't come loose. Come and look, we're sure you can think of something."
"Don't be silly, I'm as helpless as you two are. In fact, you've got a lot more freedom than I have. Except I can walk around."
"Mia, darling, do you think Mr. Gentry will whip Melody again if he catches her here again?"
"Yes, I think he will. If she's any sense at all she'll get going while she can."
The trio was interrupted by the lady in question. Melody was hot, breathing heavily and unquestionably bothered. "I can't find a damned thing," she said angrily. "The son a bitch, I've looked in all the places he used to hide things he didn't want me to find and there's absolutely zilch!"
"Melody, we're terribly grateful for what you're doing for us but you really should get going. It's lovely to see you and if there's some way you can keep an eye on Ryan, we'd be grateful for that, too," Mia said urgently. "You've spent all the time that's safe, now run along."
Melody surveyed the trio she had come to save with faint hostility. She felt they were not cooperating in the way escapees should. Forcefully she tugged at the handcuffs on each of the twins to assure herself nothing would come free then turned back to Mia, "All right, sweetheart, I can't free the twins but you are free to move around so I'm going to take you. I'm going to rescue you. We'll figure out how to get those handcuffs and leg irons off you when we get home."
"Oh, Melody, please! You know what happened last time you kidnapped me, it will be the same again."
"This time I'm going to put you somewhere where Ryan can't find you. You don't seem a bit grateful for what I'm trying to do, rescue you and all, so I might as well keep you and have a bit of fun."
"I'm not going, Melody. I simply refuse to leave this house naked and handcuffed and leg-ironed. The idea is absurd."
"So I'm absurd, am I?" Melody gazed around in exasperation. "You wait a minute, I'll go and find a riding crop or a whip or something. If you're going to be difficult, I can be difficult, too."
Mia was dismayed. The twins felt they had nothing to loose so they leaned back against their walls and jingled their chained wrists suggestively and with deep feeling. She realized she faced a dilemma in which she must decide if she should go willingly or be forced by the cuts of an unfriendly whip. She considered avenues of escape or places she might hide but that was futile. Melody was a threat best met head on. Mia had never longed for free hands more than now, but the handcuffs on her wrists mocked her tugs and twistings. For this moment Mia was as angry with her chains as Melody in her bafflement over finding a way to free her from them. Mia's dilemma reentered the room carrying a single-thonged whip. The chained girl remembered all too well but resolutely she affirmed, "It's no good, Melody. Don't be silly about this. I'm not going with you."
"Why not?" Melody was running the slender leather through almost loving fingers. "It's you that's crazy." Mia turned around and wiggled her joined hands and fingers demonstratively then turned again and kicked hard at the shackles on her ankles. "Look, you idiot, I'm in no condition to go anywhere! If you'd take me some place you think is safe you still won't be able to get these things off my wrists and ankles, you'll simply have a bundle of girl who can't do anything."
"You're doing plenty with Ryan right now," Melody's voice was one hundred percent sneer. "Think I don't know! What you need is a week alone with me."
"And what you need is an hour alone with Ryan!"
Mia bit the words off short, wishing she had not uttered them. In some ways this girl was pitiful. If Ryan's analysis was correct and if Melody understood it, she would be bitterly ashamed of her most urgent need, resenting it but helpless to bring it to an end other than by one more terrible punishment. What else the two of them may have said or thought came to an abrupt end by Ryan Gentry walking briskly into the room. He wasted no words, but took the whip from Melody's nerveless fingers, turned her around and handcuffed her wrists behind her back in the same helplessness as he kept Mia. His voice was, as ever, calm, "Well, well, Melody, my sweet. Thinking of whipping somebody?"
The question needed no answer so the master continued in the same vein, "Saw your car as I was leaving. Guessed what you'd be up to, so I came back and hung around. I take it you haven't had much luck." He fixed Melody with a stern look. "I gather you were about to whip poor Mia into some sort of agreement. I suspect you were going to kidnap her again, weren't you?"
It was obviously difficult for Melody to make up her mind; to remain mute in stubborn anger or to protest and promise. Tugging and straining at the unaccustomed handcuffs on her wrist, she made a compromise, "Take these things off me, Ryan and I'll go home. I'm sorry I came. I apologize. I can see I was foolish. You've got this collection of palpating bitches so hot they don't even want their freedom. Congratulations."
"They are not bitches."
"OK, I'm sorry. Let's call them three charming girls. Now will you unlock these things you've put on me?"
Mia realized Gentry had prepared his scenario. His voice was without anger. "I will not unlock them. In a minute I will strip you naked. I will then fasten you in an uncomfortable situation and keep you like that for a week before I sent you home. You will not be whipped."
Melody paused in her twisting to gaze at her former husband. Mia could sense the message they exchanged. She saw Melody wilt. Ryan's voice dominated the four females in his power. "I know why you're here. You know why you're here. You want me to whip you because it satisfies some hunger you've generated within yourself. You've come here in the hope of being whipped and fucked and sent home replete. The only way I know to cure this nonsense is to refuse to do the thing you want most. You can think about it in the erotic situations I place you, but it is not going to happen. When I set you free at the end of the week, I hope you'll realize the game is over."
Melody wept. It was the obvious female thing to do. Mia could imagine herself doing exactly the same thing. With hard male hands Ryan stripped the girl who had once married him. There was about him an air of purpose. He produced another set of leg irons, locked one about Melody's ankle and the other upon the already fettered ankle of Angel Argent. It was as though he had disposed of a distasteful task, he gathered up the ruined and discarded clothing his hands had torn from female nakedness and turned to Mia, "Come along, sweetheart, we've done all the damage we can do here. The three of them won't be lonely, they might even get to like each other."
Mia clinked her way obediently at her master's side. She wished Melody anywhere but where she was. As long as Melody was anywhere within Gentry's house she would be very much a force neither she nor Ryan would forget nor could ignore. But there was also now a nagging second thought. She voiced it unhappily, "But, Ryan, don't you realize Melody has got lesbian tendencies? If you leave her alone with two naked girls, she'll get bored and go to work on them. Please, I don't want that."
"They can kick, can't they?" Gentry retorted. "Besides they've got one free hand each, they can handle her easily."
"I'm not so sure. Remember you've got leg irons on both of them."
"OK, OK. I'll drop in later and issue a warning. You may be right. I'll tell 'em, 'No tongue-and-groove jobs-or else!' "
Mia had to be satisfied. How could she tell any man of male weakness and susceptibility to female wiles. Gentry was secure in his conviction he had no affection for the woman he had just chained to one of the twins but Mia was not so sure and a week was a long, long time. Dejectedly she said, "Well, if you're not going to whip Melody maybe you'd better whip me. I'll all hot and bother by her being downstairs. I wish she was back where she came from."
"You don't want to be whipped any more than I do, you idiot girl," Ryan chided tenderly. "One more wicked stroke across you somewhere, just to remind you what it's like?"
"Well, no! I suppose I don't, I'm being silly. What about your paints?"
"Oh, damned, that silly bitch put them out of my mind." He looked at his watch. "There's still time. I won't bother to fix you in any cute way, you're helpless enough. And if you wanted to go you would have gone with Melody."
It was nice to be trusted. Or could she call herself trusted when she bore a weight of confining irons! Instead, she directed her snubbed steps to where her sisters entertained a foreign force. The two of them had already exhausted their repertory of complaint, Melody had not.
"I could kick myself for letting this happen. Mia, you absolutely must know where he keeps his keys. I don't want to be chained with these dumb kids for seven days."
"You shouldn't have come here then. You might have known Ryan would do something you wouldn't like. I wouldn't want to be chained the way you are either. It looks silly."
Melody devoted a few moments to twists and ineffectual tugs. Angel squealed and told her to stop hurting. Melody snorted in disgust and continued, "He doesn't really mean that, does he? I mean about not whipping me? He's bound to whip me sooner or later, isn't he?"
"I don't think so, not this time. Ryan believes you've become addicted to it. He thinks you come here on purpose to trick him into giving you one more thrashing." Mia stared her adversary in the eye, "Is he right?"
"You're both mean, saying a thing like that about me - even if it's true!" Melody kicked at the chain. "I'll admit I'd a lot sooner be whipped than chained to one of these adolescents. They don't talk my language."
Mia pondered Melody's plight. Whatever she did about Melody would be in the cause of self interest. Tentatively she asked, "If I managed to persuade Ryan to whip you, would you be grateful? Is it what you want?"
Melody tossed her hair defiantly. "How should I know! You two have done all the Freudian figuring, you wouldn't believe a word I say. But I'll make you a promise, if you can get me free, I'll go and never come back."
Mia sighed. Handcuffs and leg irons made everything hopeless, there wasn't a thing a girl could do. It was not even possible to embrace the disturbed Melody and give her comfort. She would have done this if she could, but unhappily made her retreat from what she thought of, humorously, as the "damsels dungeon." She returned to the studio to be ready for Ryan's return.
It took a couple of days before Mia generated the courage to broach the subject on her mind. Ryan was painting with his usual absorption when she inquired in a tone deliberately listless, "Ryan, I've been thinking about Melody. We both told her about her fault and she's well aware of it herself. She's had a couple of days to stare this whipping business in the face. Why not do it to her one more time and tell her that's the end of it and then send her home?"
"Want to get rid of her, eh?" Ryan's tone was sardonic. "Look, I don't want you two silly females vying for my affections. I'll dispose of my affections myself. In five days she'll be gone, so stop worrying."
"If you don't do something dramatic with her, she'll simply come back again." Mia blushed and shifted within the limits of her pose upon the dais. "I know this must sound horrid, but I'm putting myself in her place and knowing what I'd hate. Why don't you stop whipping her in the conventional way you've used up to now and whip her in a shameful way and in demeaning places to rob her of dignity."
"Like up her crotch?" Ryan sounded more sardonic than ever. "Across her tits? How sadistic can you get!"
"Well, I didn't mean it to sound sadistic, but I guess it does," Mia admitted with shame. "But I didn't mean for you to do it all that hard. You don't have to leave scars and welts. Just make her ashamed and glad to go home."
"And that would work with you?"
"I ... I think so."
"Then maybe I should do it to you?"
Mia suddenly felt herself on dangerous ground and beat a hasty retreat. "Oh, never mind. That's the last thing I want you to do to me. But, Ryan, darling, there is something ..."
"Like what?"
"Well, I was thinking ... I was wondering ... Oh, damn it, Ryan, what I'm trying to say is will you give me some freedom. I mean, will you take off my handcuffs and leg irons for a while. A day or two?"
"Give me a good reason."
"Well ... it's been so long. And sometimes that gets so frustrating. I'm not sure they haven't grown in and become a part of me. Pretty please?"
Gentry spared her a glance that had nothing to do with planes or dimensions. "Actually not a bad idea," he admitted cheerfully, "I've been thinking along the same lines myself, not so much with a view to letting you loose but the change in your bondage might do no harm, give us both a lift. How about I change your hands from back to front but use another chain to attach them to your leg irons about the level of you fury little pussy? You'd look real cute with another chain dangling between your knees and you'd have a lot more freedom than you do now. Of course, I'd have to take it off you at night. Can't have too many impediments."
"Well, I suppose if that's what you want ... "
"But not quite what you had in mind, sweetheart?"
"Well, it would be sort of nice to be able to stretch my arms and be able to leap around, even if it was only for a little while. I promise I'll behave. I'll let you fasten you again anytime you say."
"I'll think about the freedom bit, sweetheart. We have to be careful about these changes of mood. To switch from the way I've got you now to complete freedom ... ! Well, I'm not too sure. Fact is I like you as you are. You're damned near perfect. No hands and only half your feet. Proper way to have a girl."
"Oh, Ryan, you're teasing me. Please be serious."
"OK, but hold that pose, you're a working girl, remember?" Ryan applied himself earnestly before speaking again. "But you do have a thought, I like the idea of a bit of a change for you. We'll try the one I described and we'll think of a few more. Maybe I'll give you that day of freedom as a reward."
The reward, when it came, was a shock!