Chapter 9
Triple Travail
Mia Argent gazed at the ceiling. It was a familiar view in which she took no shame. In his iovemaking, Gentry tended to be more conventional than she would have supposed. True, they experimented outrageously, but generally they ended up with her on her back and her legs wide apart or over his back and clutching hard. In this making of their love she was no longer bound. She had no idea if she was a prisoner or not. But, so far, Gentry had remembered on each occasion to snap the shackle tight upon her ankle before going to sleep. She had been back in his possession ten days without a single opportunity to escape. It was now the bright sunlight of morning after a lust filled night. The two of them were drowsily content to stay in bed and talk.
"Ryan, darling, why do you have to punishment me every day, I don't do things to deserve it? Are you a sadist?"
"Hmmmm, I suppose so. I suspect most men are. All it amounts to is we love to make girls squeal the same why they do in successful orgasms. We can't screw them all night so we do the next best thing. We hang them up by their thumbs and whip their bottoms. The effect is pretty much the same. Haven't you noticed?"
"But, Ryan darling, if we had an never-ending orgasm you'd never paint any pictures. And what about eating?"
They enjoyed this exchange, an endless sparring neither wished to win. It was icing on their cake and their cake was good! Each day since her repossession, Mia had been subjected to what others might see as punishment. She supposed it was but did not care. Through the hours when she was left chained or bound in some form of discomfort her heat flared in a reassuring comfort which never failed and her mind seethed with conjecture of days to come. Neither of them believed they could ever tire of this erotic play. They often talked of it.
"It's just that we're lucky, sweetheart," Ryan always assured her. "Lots of people would do things the way we do if they had the chance. When you think of it, almost no one has freedom or privacy. We have both. We shouldn't ask too many questions, analysis strips things bare and leaves you nothing."
Drowsily Mia asked a now familiar question, "What are you going to do to me today, Ryan?
He took pleasure in telling her, it added spice. Often they talked of her impending punishment over breakfast, speaking of it in the abstract as though it would not happen or that it was happening to someone else. They tried to outdo each other in being outrageous.
"I'm thinking of whipping you up between your legs, Mia. Will that keep you content for today?"
"Oh, darling, thank you! Of course, it will. You'll whip me especially hard, won't you?"
It was carnality, lust and endless erotic by-play, it was so outrageous that neither believed in it or felt guilt. It was a fun thing between a man and his girl. That the girl was a possession made them luckier than most.
"I absolutely must hang you up by your thumbs one of these days, Mia," Ryan mused thoughtfully. "It's such classic thing. It's referred to so often, it sounds so ultimate. Think you could handle it?"
"I can handle anything you truly want me to," Mia assured him without concern. "You shouldn't tell me things, just do them."
"But are we going to go on like this all our lives?" Ryan asked argumentatively. "I mean, do you want to?"
"I have nothing to say about it, Master. I've supposed you'd go on punishing me like this until you get bored and then you'll marry me. Don't tell me you won't, I don't wish to know."
"But supposing I say I will? Suppose I said I'd marry you tomorrow? What then?"
Mia's heart leaped the way it always did when marriage was mentioned. She felt certain she would get Ryan sooner or later. Melody had receded beyond this fresh flood of sexuality submerging her and the man she loved. Truthfully she retorted, "I simply don't know about after being married. I suppose I belong to you just as much after as before. Even the church sort of condones that, doesn't it? I know they've removed the word "obey" from the service but it's still implied."
"Bit difficult to have a dinner party and explain your wife is in suspension in the basement, love. What would you suggest?"
"You're giving me bits of time off now. You could still do it after we're married. I'd be your hostess at the dinner party. No one need know you'll whip me afterwards or put me in a cage."
"Be cute if they did. Give them the thrill of their lives. But I suppose we're a mile ahead of them in things like this. Poor old, porky Evans told me the other day he'd never seen his wife without a nightgown. It's hard to believe."
Mia was standing naked in a specially constructed pillory when Ryan asked the inevitable, "What about your sisters, Mia. It's been a long time?"
"You phoned when you found the ropes without Angel, didn't you?"
"Yes, they were OK then but a bit jolted by Angel's adventure. Guess I shouldn't have subjected her to it, but the temptation was just too much."
"But, Ryan, the poor dears will be bored silly alone at Dovecove. I'd bet they'll be thinking of us every minute. There'll be things to sign and bills to pay by now. Shouldn't you take me over?"
"You're right, sweetheart, but you know what it will be, don't you. One demand after another. They'll climb all over us and want me to do the most horrible acts of sadism upon their innocent little pelts. Of course, you're a pretty good submissive yourself. I'm very pleased with you."
The twins were enraptured. "There's all sorts of mail for you, darling, in your box, you can deal with it while Mr. Gentry does nice things to us."
"You do not mean nice things at all," big sister said severely. "Instead of coming here to deal with the mail, I should give you both a good orgasm to keep you on the straight and narrow. Stop bothering Ryan, he's got plenty to do with me."
"But, darling, if one girl is good surely three is better. Besides, we're nice and young, it will be a pleasant change for Mr. Gentry after an elderly lady."
Mia swallowed the insult. Big sisters were accustomed to such things. Matter-of-factly she asked of Ryan, "Please dear, untie my hands so I can look after things. I promise I'll be good and let you tie them again."
"Gee, isn't she submissive?" the twins chanted in unison. "Oh, Mr. Gentry, you must be so proud of her. And we bet you did the most awful things to get her in such an obedient state of mind?"
"Never you mind what I do to your big sister," Gentry laughed at their eagerness. "When your sister asks me to I'll take you both home and thrash you as hard as I've ever thrashed a girl. How's that?"
"Do you have to ask Mia? She's so difficult!" Two pairs of young eyes surveyed him in hungry desire. "Mia doesn't give us a break at all. We've never been what you call fucked and we've never been whipped in our lives," they sighed longingly. "We're deprived, that's what we are. Deprived!"
Fancy and Angel were an endless source of pleasure. Ryan and Mia both knew there was far more delight in them by keeping them in suspenseful desire than to concede to their desires. That might mean a well whipped bottom and a lot of marks on their tender, young skins but also might take away some of the fun in their relationships. But the older couple understood that to inflect the punishment would being something to an end, it would be the death of mystery and allure. They would rob the twins of nothing. When the time came Angel and Fancy would be punished to the utmost of their hearts desire and beyond. In the meantime they were a source of laughter.
"You're mean to us. Mia gets all the fun."
"It's not a bit fair. Even if we're only fourteen, we do have our rights, you know. We don't see why you couldn't whip us just a little sometimes."
"You used to keep us in chains when you had us over at your place. Couldn't we do that once a week. You've no idea what it does to our pussies to be naked and have a man look at us. Do you, Mr. Gentry?"
They were precocious enough to make Mia consider the idea of giving them a whipping and of making certain it went far beyond their expectations. Their tolerance of pain was probably no greater than her own. After half a dozen strokes they would be longing for release.
Mischievously, she broached an idea.
They discussed Mia's inspiration over dinner. Ryan could find but a single fault. "It's wonderful, sweetheart, but I'm nervous about this Melody idea. Couldn't we use someone else?"
"I don't know anyone who wouldn't be frightfully shocked. Do you?"
"So far as the twins are concerned I'm wondering if I couldn't hunt up that horrible little boy Fancy told us about. They'd positively hate him!"
"Have you forgotten me, Ryan?"
"No, I haven't. With you Melody has some validity. I can see your point. But I don't see why you would want to subject yourself to that much pain and in those particular parts of yourself."
"You're a little bored with me, that's why. You're being kind," Mia explained. "This will be a bit of spice to reawaken your interest. Quite probably I need to be gingered up myself. I think it's a wonderful idea all way round."
A pair of shinning eyed teenagers arrived on the appointed day. They lost no time. "We think you're wonderful and so kind and we can hardly wait," they assured their host breathlessly. "Is darling Mia fastened up some way?"
Ryan assured them that indeed their sister had been well looked after. Without warning they threw aside their scanty garments and their shoes to stand starkly but alluringly nude and coyly asked, "How do you want us, Mr. Gentry? Please don't be shy. Are you going to whip us?"
Ryan laughed at their exuberance, wondering how long it would last beneath the lash. He was determined not to be cruel but perhaps a lesson would be good for them, they were getting out of hand. He said, "Come along, I'm going to look after all three of you in the same room. You'll be able to watch."
"Oh, yummy! We won't mind a bit how much you whip us, Mr. Gentry. We won't mind anything you do."
They gazed upon him soulfully like young does at a buck. "We'd hate to be punished by anyone else, but just so long as it's you!"
They conveyed an impression of total adoration of the man to whom they made their assurances. Ryan chuckled inwardly.
The big basement room had ample space. The naked twins had memories of its constraints. They glowed in nude anticipation while Ryan strapped them tight upon two benches he had specially contrived. The leather bands circled teenage wrists, ankles, waists and necks. By the time he was finished each girl was breathless and flushed with erotic anxiety, their bottoms reared indecently imploring no mercy. Mia felt sorry for them both.
Mia was already in place where Melody once had been. Her wrists were on each side of the post, tight bound, her feet were pulled apart by tethers upon her ankles. She was awaiting punishment in a naked condition. It was a punishment she herself had asked for but nevertheless she was nervous, fearful she had bitten off more than she could chew. It was easy to speak of something like this when in bed with Ryan or sipping with him in the lounge, but now it was actually about to happen. The cords upon her wrists and the ropes upon her ankles seemed fearful beyond expectation. Mutely she hoped Melody might be long delayed or perhaps in bed with the flu.
Melody was not in bed nor did she have the flu. She arrived bubbling over with good spirits and when taken to the room downstairs, surveyed the trio with immense satisfaction. Her immediate concern was with Mia. "Isn't it sweet of Ryan to give me my revenge. Do you remember when you had me like this and what you did then?"
"Yes, I remember." Mia's voice did not betray her thudding heart.
"And Fancy and darling Angel, aren't they sweet. What lovely benches, Ryan, did you make them specially?"
Assured of the origin of everything present, Melody continued to effervesce. "And I may whip all three of them, Ryan?" she asked in disbelief. "Why are you being so kind? I don't understand?"
"You will, Melody, leave it be for now. Enjoy yourself."
"Which one do you want me to whip first, darling?"
"Take your pick. It will hurt each one of them just as much whether they're first or last. Here use this strap flagellum on the twins. You can use the whip on Mia, the same one she use on you."
For Melody this unexpected plethora of goodies was almost more than she could bare. She had supposed herself banished to outer darkness but now, all of a sudden, here were three delicious nudities fastened tight for her discipline. That something might happen to herself when the three were properly punished was something she was not prepared to deal with now. But it was something to look forward to!
Melody took the offered flagellum from Ryan. It was an unfamiliar weapon but deeply satisfying in the hand. It was limber like a dead snake and of a length to give total control. It could be lapped into any crevasse or over any curve desired by whoever held it. Instinctively Melody knew it would provide the most satisfying yet shocking sounds of impact. Her breathing was getting out of hand. All eyes were upon her in an utterly fearful anticipation by the female occupants of the room and an amused regard from the man who held them all in thrall. Tentatively she walked to the bench to which Angel was tightly strapped.
Mia was awaiting pain to be delivered by a woman who was her rival for a man's affections. Her posture was strained and cruelly vulnerable. But she forgot her own concerns in watching the vividly erotic scene Melody was creating. Angel was breathing hard and made the expected protests.
"But, Mr. Gentry, it's you who's suppose to whip us, not Melody. I don't want to be whipped by Melody. Neither does Fancy. If Melody whips us it will spoil everything!"
The flagellum contacted Angel's helpless bottom with a resounding splat. It's supple dimensions were perfect for a girl's divided cheeks. Having selected one and contacted with most satisfying sound of her life, Melody moved her attention to its twin. Again there was the solid and resounding "Thwack." The first blow was visibly ripening and deepening in color across Angel's virgin skin. The girl herself appeared to be in shock. Her eyes were wide in disbelief and she was surging with every ounce of her young strength against the straps. But she could not move, her ass remained upended and inviting for the limber leather in Melody's hand. In the vibrating silence following the second blow, Angel's voice was pathetical small, "I don't think I can stand this. I'm terribly sorry Mr. Gentry but she's hitting me too hard and I never knew it was like this anyway. Please, Mr. Gentry, Fancy and I want you to whip us, not Melody or any other girl."
It was Angel's last coherent sentence. After it had died away the sounds she made under the flagellum's frightful attentions were inarticulate and interspersed with striving to catch up upon her breath. Mia guessed the supple leather must be horribly painful but was by no means lethal. Angel was simply getting what she said she wanted, but not from the desired source or with the desired instrument. Beholding Fancy's fascinated gaze, she could envision the twins comparing scorched rumps after it was all over, each delighted and proud of their wounds. In the meantime the twins would have a bad, bad thirty minutes.
Gentry's hand upon her arm cautioned Melody after the fifteenth splat had spread its scarlet across Angel's seat. Gently he said, "That will do for this one. Take your pick of the others."
Mia had thought she would be last but Melody decided otherwise. Setting aside the flagellum she grandly accepted the single-thonged instrument by which she herself had been punished and by which she would now punish her rival. Mia looked back at the master, hoping he might intervene but his countenance was that of an interested spectator, obviously amused by what he watched.
Melody's voice was vibrant with something beyond pleasure, "Hello, darling, it's lovely to see you like this. I'm going to hurt you."
Mia felt there was nothing to say so kept silent. Fancy's fascination was now transferred to her and Angel, who was taking a fresh interest. It was easy to see Angel's relief at the ending of her own inflections. The twins would watch big sister get her just desserts.
It Mia had been whipped as often as had Melody and in the many ways Melody had, her ordeal would have been infinitely easier. But Mia was not addicted or experienced. The manner in which the little whip would now discolor and scorch her most secret places was a thought to make her shrink and tug uselessly against the cords that held her. She closed her eyes.
It was punishment for real. Against each cunning feminine cut Mia could wiggle, tense and weave her bottom in a limited range of freedom. She performed all the motions, knowing them obscene but not caring. All she cared about was the pain and Melody's smug pleasure in its inflection. Mia squealed as the thong entered her crotch and cut in unsuspected cruelties. She screamed in anger and fear as the first slap of the thong vibrated each of her breasts in turn. She sobbed and moaned in the misery of a taunt belly which became a constant recipient of the thong's overlap. She heard her own voice pleading that the blows be less severe. Wide eyed she turned again to Gentry but received only an approving nod. She could not believe that she was acquitting herself well. Mia was deeply shamed.
It went on forever. The punished girl felt certain it went far beyond the bounds of what she had done to Melody that first time. Melody was in her glory and was prepared to continue with her work upon the bound girl's sexual parts until her arm grew tired. But that was far away and in the meantime there was this withering, gasping femaleness responding so satisfying to her lash. When Ryan intervened quietly, "That's enough, Melody, save a bit for next time," the girl with the whip stepped back, sweating and panting from the exertion of whipping bound flesh. The twins were bright eyed in ecstasy. They had seen big sister whipped and heard big sister's cries of despair and desolation. They would remember big sister's whipping and would remind her of it often. For them it would be like having a treasure in the bank.
Mia was sobbing in an effort to control her reactions as Melody's fingers searched the wounds her thong had planted. It was a pleasurable, almost loving searching and tracing of weals and scarlet curves. It did not stop until Ryan's caustic comment, "Hey, that's enough of that. You're forgetting, Melody, you've still got work to do."
In different circumstances Mia might have laughed. Fancy's sudden realization of her turn being about to begin was clearly reflected in the startled look upon her young face. She looked around to all present, she visibly gulped and swallowed. Whether her sudden struggle against the straps by which the bench held her tight was motivated by a belief in possible escape or simply as a venting of suspense, no one could tell. Fancy watch Melody and the flagellum with a fixed stare of horror. But she was a twin and echoed her siblings complaint.
"Stay away from me, Melody. I don't want to be whipped by a girl. I want to be whipped by Mr. Gentry. Please, Mr. Gentry, will you whip me?"
The effort looked forlorn indeed, it appeared to have fallen on deaf ears. Angel retorted with a touch of smugness, "It's not good, Fancy darling, she'll do it to you same as me. It hurts something awful. Everybody's being very mean to us."
Mia was tiring in her awkward stance. Her wide-spread legs longed to close, her bend back cried for release. Her wrists protested their cording to the post. But once more this was temporarily forgotten in her absorption with her younger sister as the flagellum snapped and slapped and cracked upon Fancy's bottom. The twin spheres vibrated and jounced beneath the impacts. The basement room became a sound box in which the thrum and cut of limber leather on the vibrancy of Fancy's tautly stretched rump rose slowly to a final crescendo of erotic sound.
"Well, that's that," Gentry observed. "Damn good job, I'd say. Hope you three girls enjoyed it."
The twins were resilient and hopeful enough to contrive a weak, "Thank you, Mr. Gentry."
Mia said nothing.
"I could do that all day, every day!" Melody assured her audience. "I'd simply no idea! I mean, well, I've always been on the other end of things and missed all the fun."
Gentry rose to the occasion. Softly yet sardonically he assured his guests, "We don't want to cheat you, Melody. I'm certainly grateful for the work you've done today. I expect you'd appreciate a reward?"
It was a loaded question, all four girls knew it for what it was. Melody gazed at the whip she was still holding, she sat it aside and said briskly, "Thanks, Ryan, but I really should be running along. This has taken longer than I expected."
Ryan shook his head, almost sadly, his former wife could be relied upon to run true to form. Softly he replied, "Melody, you know damned well you're not going anywhere expect on one of those benches now occupied by a twin. Just hold things a minute while I unstrap the girls."
Melody strode forthrightly for the door but found it locked. She turned and said angrily, "Some other time, Ryan, I really can't today."
Utterances of naked girls in Ryan's basement room mostly went unheeded, this was no exception. Melody watched the twins rise stiffly and finger their bottoms as though surprised to find them still intact. But their eyes were shinning and frequently flitted in her direction with sly smirks.
"Dressed or undressed, Melody?" Ryan inquired politely. "We don't mind, take your choice."
"I certainly do not intent to strip naked. I did not come here to be punished, I came to give punishment."
It was an uneven tussle. It took perhaps two minutes for the master of the house to strap his former wife to the bench. Melody's complained throughout but, to Mia, it seemed her protests became fainter and fainter as the straps tightened down to hold her body immobile and ready for punishment. By the time the last strap was secured down tight, Melody's protests had been reduced to a weak, "You'll be sorry for this, Ryan. You shouldn't be doing it. I shall never speak to you again."
"Could I please be unfastened?" Mia asked plaintively. "I've been like this a long time and I hurt."
Mia's words trailed into the same limbo as had the complaints of hers. If she had been able to she would have shrugged but she could not shrug. Once more the fate of another girl was absorbing her interest, Melody was not looking very worried. The former Mrs. Gentry was wondering if what was going to be done to her would fall under the category of pain or pleasure. It always hurt, of course, but what Ryan prescribed as "his thrashings" had about them a shockingly erotic association for her. But this! Her plight was shaming, cruelly helpless, in the extreme. Melody was positive her reared up rump revealed her sex lips and a good deal of pubic hair. The strap around her waist, which was the main factor in her exposure, was cruel, Melody was still fully clothed but this did not last long. Gentry unceremoniously pulled up her skirt and drew it up to her shoulders. Her pantyhose were untidily pulled down. A pair of scissors clipped joyously them until the shreds could be tugged away to reveal everything Melody feared. For what it was worth she said, "You're being very kind, Ryan. Besides this is horribly rude to expose me like this." Her final indignity was now added. Ryan handed the flagellum to Angel and suggested cheerfully, "Your turn, sweetheart, she's all yours."
"No! No, Ryan, please!" Melody was distraught. "You know nobody ever whips me but you. I forbid this. I refuse to be whipped by a pair of teenyboppers!"
"We're not teenyboppers, Mrs. Gentry," Fancy explained gently. "We're just two fourteen year old young women who you've just whipped. We're going to love whipping you. How would it be if Angel whips one cheek of your bottom and I whip the other? Isn't that sweet?"
"Smart girl," Ryan approved. "And not a bad idea. You two girls do what you like about it. Melody's bottom belongs to you for the time being. I'll tell you when she's had enough."
The scarlet bottoms of the already whipped girls bounced and flitted around the large room in motions of pure delight as they inspected their victim and planned the use of the supple leather upon that part of Melody which was crimson upon themselves. Their slender youthfulness was a joy to behold, they were as supple and limber as the flagellum itself. The strapped down woman would receive the resounding thwacks with the same force as she had herself given. The youth of those who whipped her would diminish nothing. The twins were strong.
Mia hoped her sisters would evoke from Ryan's wife the same shameful sounds she had made while being whipped herself. But Melody ran true to form in this as in all else. He eyes glazed, her fingers sought vainly for expression, her breathing came in heaving gasps after each impact of the leather, she surged against the straps. But that was all. Mia envied her.
The steady beat of the flagellum filled the room.
Mia kicked her shackled foot idly as she lay beside her master in their early morning communion. Kicking her shackles had become an involuntary moment in which she found pleasure. It was always followed by the musical sound of links and a sense of belonging to the man beside her and an inability to go away. Mia was a pleased and pleasured prisoner. She often assured herself that without the shackle on her ankle she could not have slept.
The slavegirl's legs were spread wide, not so much to accommodate the chain upon her ankles, but to provide easy access for Ryan's hand which was cupped lovingly upon what he always described as "her bag of tricks." It was extremely comforting. Her master's voice came drowsily.
"That bunch of slavegirl paintings I did of you, sweetheart, I had them in a gallery. Had a showing, in fact. They've been a bit of a sensation in some quarters. We're by way of becoming rich."
Mia's ears picked up the plural he so rarely used. Her spirits soared. "Oh, darling, that's wonderful. And you kept it a secret."
"Well, yes. No use getting you excited, these things often flop." His voice took on a different tone as he added, "Look, Mia my pet, I'll tell you all the lovely details later. But there's something that's been bothering me. A man, who appears to be a millionaire, fell in love with you. Yes, really, the idiot has gone absolutely overboard. He discovered I painted from a model and he's offered me a million pounds for you, sight unseen. He's been hard to get rid of so I asked him to lunch today to sort of ... well, lay the ghost."
"A million pounds!" Mia was thrilled. "Darling, you must sell me at once. You can get the million pounds and sometime later I'll escape and we'll live happily ever after. Oh, wow!"
Mia had sat erect in her excitement but Ryan pushed her back. "Hold it, love. Don't get excited. I don't particularly like the fellow but he bought several of the paintings and might be useful. His name's Fenimore Hilbert. I can't quite place him, probably from the USA."
It was the strangest of lunches. Ryan had insisted on his model being clothed and without restraint. Mia hated the clothes and the chains didn't matter, wild horses would not have dragged her from an examination of a man stupid enough to pay a million pounds to possess her. Ryan had laughingly assured her the "possession" intended would be very real indeed, she would be taken from his house, tightly bound or tightly chained, probably both. It appeared Mr. Hilbert was a devotee of bound and naked young woman in awkward circumstances. As Ryan cheerfully said, "He likes his maidens in distress, the more distress the better."
Fenimore Hilbert was a large, hearty man, nothing vulgar. He possessed a smoothness that revealed nothing of what he really was. Mia almost shriveled under the intensity of his regard, but that regard was also an intense compliment to what she was and could not be taken lightly. She found she could not take offense.
Their visitor was a man who took lunches in stride. His business, he assured them, was commodities, which left them no wiser than before. Mia was uncertain about his barrage of questions, they probed!
"You are normally kept in chains, Miss Argent?"
"Well ... yes, I suppose I am." She smiled at the intent eyes which told her nothing except adoration. "It's a thing between Mr. Gentry and myself. Please don't take it seriously."
"I take it very seriously indeed, Miss Argent. I wish to purchase you. I've offered Mr. Gentry the considerable sum of one million pounds for the complete possession of your person."
"I'm not for sale. I expect Mr. Gentry told you and anyway, such a sale would not be legal."
Hilbert let the question slide but continued, "I have always been fascinated with the captured girl." He nodded towards Gentry. "For me she has an extraordinary allure, the quintessence of which was caught by Mr. Gentry in those paintings. Naked and in chains you are exquisite."
"Mr. Hilbert finds a quality of the aesthetic, something almost spiritual, in the bound girl," Gentry interposed.
"That's correct, that's exactly it," Fenimore Hilbert agreed. "Meeting you like this confirms my assumption that those paintings were real. You could walk in and out of any canvass. It is something quite miraculous. I wish to possess you."
Mia caught Gentry's eye. She suspected they were not laying a ghost, they were nourishing a fetish. Mr. Hilbert was being a nuisance.
"I'd like to see your chains, my dear and the places where they are locked on you, the rooms and dungeons, I mean. I'm sure you have them." He turned a benevolent countenance to Ryan. "Would it be asking too much if, after lunch, you adorn Miss Argent in metal as in any one of your paintings?"
It went on and one to the point of embarrassment. Mr. Hilbert, still protesting, was escorted back to his car. Back in the house Ryan said, "See what I mean, the man's obsessed with having you. Well, anyway we did our best. I'll make sure he doesn't bother us again."
It was on the following day Mia Argent was "taken."
Ryan had left early on business. His slavegirl reminded shackled to the bed with the familiar bonds. Whatever she needed was within the span of the many links with which her captivity was assured. When Hilbert and his men entered, she sat up in surprise and shock, covering her breasts and knowing with a fearful certainty what was about to happen.
They were cruelly capable. While Mr. Hilbert smoothly explained his need of her, Mia was tightly bound, tightly gagged and blindfolded. She was carried she knew not where. The kidnappers had even possessed a master key by which her shackles were removed.
It was a very long ride. By the discomfort and the sounds, Mia judged herself within the trunk of a car. She had been hogtied so she could not move. She was both blind and could not speak. She wet the bandages around her eyes with bitter tears.
Fenimore Hilbert was undoubtedly rich. His house, where ever it was, was isolated magnificence. When she was unbound and her lips and eyes freed from bondage, the helper bound her wrists afresh behind her back and departed. Mr. Hilbert was an exuberant and kindly host. He insisted on tilting coffee into her lips and then taking her on a tour of her palace of imprisonment.
Hilbert had thought of everything. There were chains enough for an army of captives, there was rope, there was also a great number of room holding a great many devices, all designed for a girl's discomfort. Mia had no choice but to go where she was led. Whatever words she uttered fell upon deaf ears or were swallowed in the immensity of her new prison.
While viewing the objects with which she was certain she would be making a more intimate acquaintance, her mind was filled with thoughts of Ryan. Ryan had to guess! How could he fail to guess! Ryan would track her down and rescue her. Fenimore Hilbert was surely a well known figure and would not be hard to trace. She was comforting herself with such thought when her captor's voice intervened.
"I'll want you chained, Mia. I'm sure you'll understand." Fenimore Hilbert sighed as though possessed with all the wealth of the world. "You're so beautiful, so very beautiful."
Mia asked herself why, if she was so beautiful to him, he had purchased or caused to be constructed the brutal implements for her dismay and discomfort. He was evidently a complicated man. She feared he was insane.
Mia had been naked when kidnapped. She was naked now. She stood without complaint while her kidnapper chained her in a weight of shackles she could scarcely bare. Hilbert had a chain for every part of her. When he was done, she could easily have sagged under the combined weight. But she was wise enough to know she must please this man so she tensed within her bonds and wore them proudly. He was enraptured.
"I wish I could paint," Hilbert said regretfully, "but I have the next best thing." He waved magnificently to a collection of camera equipment. "Gentry has immortalized you in oils, my dear, I shall do the same for you with the lens. As I have you chained this moment you are the most glorious creature in the universe."
Mia stood in chains. She moved within their clutch according to the directions of this strange man who's eyes were alight with happiness. The intensity of Hilbert's emotions and delight with her inhibited protest. Mia felt herself possessed by a strange force or power emitting from the man so busy with his cameras. Hilbert heard little she said. He was not hurting her, it was best to remain mute.
Hilbert's removal of the first set of manacles brought his first reference to something not previously mentioned. Mia cringed.
"I can see you've been whipped, Miss Argent." Hilbert ran an inquiring finger over the still visible marks Melody had placed upon Mia's skin. "Next to the maiden bound and constrained there is the maiden who suffers the pain and anguish of the lash. It is equally beautiful. I do hope you agree?"
Mia tensed. She was desperately afraid but she quietly responded, "I don't like being whipped, Mr. Hilbert. If I am whipped I cease to be a good slavegirl, I become unattractive, noisy and untidy. Please, you have so many other things ... ?"
Hilbert would return to it later, but for now he allowed the subject to drop. "These shackles I've just taken from you were marvelously heavy, fine for the camera, of course, but let us now change you to something more feminine. I have a set of what would be described as 'harem chains.' I suspect they are largely symbolic, though I wish to see whether they could hold you should you attempt to escape."
It was like a series of fittings for a new dress. You stood, you were pushed, you were turned, you were prodded. Mia kept silent while silver links and silver bands were locked upon her nakedness by a man who was now breathing heavily and pink of complexion. After the last lock had snapped she was instructed to walk around the room. This she did to the music of many links. She did not trip. She was experienced.
Fenimore Hilbert watched entranced. Had the circumstances been different, Mia might well have been amused, it was innocent enough. There was no mirror but she knew the chains enhanced her loveliness and were, in themselves, lovely. Light as they may be she knew they could hold her helpless.
It was too good to last. Male fingers were soon fumbling with keys and silver chains fell with a clatter. Almost panting, Hilbert said, "I have to take this further, my dear. I have an appointment quite soon and must get you properly attended to. Come alone, you'll love this."
Mia took the plunge, "Do you have to do this, Mr. Hilbert? This is kidnapping, you could go to prison. I haven't minded your trying out these chains on me, it was rather fun. But I know you want to do a lot more. Please?"
"You see this funny looking thing here?" Hilbert asked enthusiastically. "Looks a bit odd, I'll admit. There's twisted iron and it looks funny but just wait a minute. Now I want you to kneel with your knees on these two pads."
Mia obeyed. It seemed innocent and silly, the contraption itself looked as though someone had made a mistake. Her owner busied himself by pushing forward a small table. "I want you to lean forward, placing your forearms on this table. You can cradle your head, too, if you wish. In fact, this table is entirely for your comfort so use it as you may please."
The naked girl obeyed. It meant leaning well forward and well down. A glimmering of what lay ahead was not hard to come by. Her bottom reared well above the rest of her body. It could well be elevated more.
"I wish you wouldn't do this to me, Mr. Hilbert," she said earnestly. "This thing's designed for girls to be hurt, isn't it?"
The words were lost along with her previous utterances. Mia felt ridiculous, experimenting with Fenimore Hilbert's toy. She could cradle her head in her hands upon the small table or thrust upward on outspread palms. Behind her Hilbert was busy securing her ankles to the frame. That was all it was, a quite smallish frame within she knelt and which clamped her ankles tight and which provided a strap for her waist which was drawn slowly tighter and tighter until she gasped fearfully. "You're breaking my back! Oh, Mr. Hilbert, please!"
The pressure stopped. But now Mia had little choice but to lay upon the table on her bare forearms, she could no longer rise herself. She could look back to either side by straining awkwardly, she could even glimpse her thighs exposed obscenely as though no longer a part of her. The little frame was performing its function to perfection. The helpless girl knew, without a doubt, she was about to be either caned or whipped. Either one meant pain. Pure and simple: pain.
Fenimore Hilbert had produced the inevitable cane. He was flexing it with loving care and looking at his target in perspiring excitement. But his voice was controlled, "Just one stroke now, Mia my dear. I want you to gage its quality while I leave you along. Regrettably I have a lengthy errand. However you will be safe as you are now and will have time to realize your good fortune."
Mia's reflections about Hilbert's sanity were cut short by the searing cut across her cheeks. The cane lapped from hip to hip. She screamed. Mia was certain she must be cut and bleeding. Hilbert was a strong man.
The cane was set aside. Mia watched it fearfully as though it possessed a life of its own. Fenimore Hilbert fingered and frictioned the rising weal he had placed across the kidnapped posterior. He was muttering small exclamations such as, "Wonderful!," "Exquisite!," "Classic!," and "Marvelous, marvelous!" He lifted Mia's bent head, kissed her forehead gently and went away while she was still gasping from the agony.
Time passed, a lot of time. Mia's single wound burned steadily while her mind raced and she made frantic efforts to free herself. They failed. Miss Mia Argent was tightly and implacably held. She could not tell how much time had passed when the silvery, feminine tinkle of a laugh softly invaded the room.
"I knew I'd find you somewhere. I'm never quite sure with Daddy, but in most ways he's wonderfully predictable."
It was a girl of Mia's own age, an expensive girl, but bright eyed and without inhibitions. She was gazing upon the clamped and strapped nakedness with sparkling curiosity. "I've never seen him use this thing before. I've wondered about it. What do you think of it?"
"Let me out, that's what I think of it," Mia said as she strained to put all the helpless feelings she felt into the words. "Please, please help me."
"I take it you're not one of the little darlings he pays money to? That means you've been kidnapped - that's a first for Daddy!"
The girl was fingering Mia's weal. "My, he really let you have one, didn't he! Just as well I found you," she laughed gaily. "Oh, by the way, I'm his daughter, my name's Wanda and I have to keep an eye on Daddy. Daddy has this things about girls and ropes and chains and things," she said lightly. "I do hope you've not been inconvenienced too badly."
"Thank heaven's you've come!" Mia exclaimed, "I've been going insane with worry. And this strap over my back is breaking me in two. Please hurry."
"I won't be a minute, dear. But there's something I simply have to do before I set you free. You've got one really gorgeous mark across your bottom. I don't suppose it will matter much if you have another beside it, will it dear?"
Mia's hopes sank. Like father, like daughter. But, at least, this slip of a girl lacked her father's bulk and strength. Placatingly, Mia said, "I suppose not, not if it gives you pleasure."
One more sear, one more awful pain. The naked recipient of Miss Hilbert's stroke held her breath. But that was all, one single stroke! A moment later, eager young hands were tugging at straps and clamps.
Standing erect and expressing a flood of heartfelt gratitude, Mia massaged her bottom as if she was surprised to discover it still intact, there was no blood. Feeling a need to say something she uttered, "That hurt something awful. But thank you, thank you very much."
"That sounds so silly," Wanda laughed gleefully. "Look, goodness knows when Daddy will be home, it might be a good idea if we get out of here. I don't live in this place, Daddy got me a lovely place in the city. I'll drive you home."
In a splendid blaze of wonder it was bourn upon Mia Argent that she was free, she had her hands, she could run and jump and fight. Her only lack was now supplied.
"You'll need clothes, dear, come along."
Wanda was brisk and businesslike, there was a touch of anxiety in her voice. She explained it away by informing, "If Daddy catches us, we'll both wind up the way I found you. You mustn't think Daddy hasn't used all this stuff on me at one time or another. He gave me a real bad time while I was a teenager. But now I'm an adult and have him pretty well figured. Come alone, darling."
It was too good to be true. The car and the two girls headed back toward Dovecove and the twins while Mia told, breathlessly, of her adventures.
"Not mad at me for using the cane on you dear?"
"No, I'm used to it and I can understand what impelled you. Forget it." Mia was prepared to be forgiving about anything.
The twins greeted their big sister with surprise and some resentment. "What, you again? We thought Mr. Gentry had you safely chained. Now we've got to tie you up for him all over again. Really, Mia, you're so silly!"
"Don't you dare touch me with a piece of rope," Mia warned. "I'm free and I'm going to stay free. I'm dressed and I'm going to stay dressed. In a little while I'm going to change my clothes and go over and confront our friend, Ryan Gentry on equal terms."
The twins giggled delightfully. "You know what will happen then, don't you darling? Mr. Gentry will take your clothes off and tie you nice and tight. That will be the end of woman's lib."
Mia sighed. They were probably right. Gentry might be glad to see her back but would be unimpressed at her freedom. The twins interposed on her reflection, "Tell you what, darling, we two will go over and see Mr. Gentry and sort of pave the way for you. How's that?"
"He'll strip and bind you both, so what will that prove?" Mia said irritably.
"No he won't, darling. Mr. Gentry thinks teenagers are a pain in the you-know-what. He told us so. But he'll listen to us. Maybe we'll ask him over for tea."
Mia watched them go. They could do no harm. Suddenly she was frightened, not so much of Gentry but of herself. She bathed, she changed her clothes. The old, familiar garments were stuffy but a feminine armor. If she hurried the twins might still be there.
Fancy and Angle were indeed still there. They were in the cage Mia herself had spent many hours in. They were giggling delightfully and wore their handcuffs with a flair.
"Two little birds in a cage," Gentry said without apology, "couldn't resist it, sorry. Want to join them, then there'll be three?"
Mia ignored her sisters as though a pair of naked twins inside a cage were an everyday occurrence. She bristled with purpose, "Ryan, we have to talk."
"Why not?"
Ryan shrugged, his eyes telling her everything yet nothing. "Come on, you can make me a drink in the lounge."
"No! You can make me one for a change. Look, Ryan, I'm free and I'm clothed! I'm not going to be ordered around."
"I can easily fix that, darling." Ryan was unperturbed. "You'll fix us both drinks and you'll serve mine while on your knees. You will then adopt the proper dress, or should I say undress, before your master. Understood?"
Mia held the lid on her indignation, at least she still was clothed. She clung to her clothes as to a lifesaver amid a sea of slavery. She told him of Fenimore Hilbert and of Wanda. His response was shattering.
"Yes, sorry about that, love. Just did it to give you a bit of contrast. The Hubert's are old friends."
Mia stared, letting it sink in slowly. Outraged she demanded, "You fixed it! You mean you had me kidnapped and ... tortured! How could you?"
"Always said I was a bit of a bastard. You'll have to show me those two strips on your arse, darling."
Mia put down her drink. "I'm going straight home!"
"You won't get as far as the door, love. You know that as well as I do, stop kidding yourself."
It was a battle of wills. The man and the girl stared levelly at each other, everything in clarity, totally understood.
Mia's voice was wistful in regret, "I'm not coming back here as a slavegirl, not even if I have to fight you every hour of every day. I don't care how you chain me, I'll fight and fight and fight!"
"Oh, have it your own way," Ryan waved a careless hand. "You really do have a bee in your bonnet, Mia. I'll get it out, but not today. Would a good thrashing help?"
"I am not Melody!"
"Just as well, actually."
"What are you doing with the twins in that cage?" Mia demanded savagely.
"They're a pair of idiots. I told them not to come here," Ryan replied. "They're so happy, I couldn't deny them. Besides, what marvelous hostages they make for your good behavior. See what I mean?"
Mia seethed. As usual Ryan held all the cards. But she knew of nothing else she could have done. She could not have turned her back on this man. Ryan Gentry held her in thrall of the mind, the spirit and the heart. If only he would allow her equality for even a single hour.
"Look here, you idiot girl, can I trust you while I go and make a couple phone calls. You won't go dashing back home or setting the house on fire or something stupid, will you?"
Mia did not rise. She was in the grip of the lassitude she had experienced before, knowing herself powerless against a force. She quietly sipped her drink and considered how she could best capitulate to her master without too much loss of face. If only he would give her a break! Mia Argent sighed and sipped, sighed and sipped. Absent mindedly she made her way to the bar and mixed herself a second drink. She failed to notice she had returned once more to kneel.
Ryan was absent a long time. It did not matter. Caustically, Mia reflected that, now, being free to leave the premises seemed meaningless. She had been free but here she was. She refused to think about the anomaly but returned to her glass.
"Well, that's safely looked after," Ryan said cheerfully. "But there's something you should see. Finish that drink and come along."
The man standing behind the desk in Ryan's office was unmistakably a minister. To either side, as witnesses, stood Fenimore Hilbert and his daughter, Wanda. Both beamed. The twins were artfully attired in orange blossoms and little else except their smiles. The corsages they carried identified them as bride's maids. Ryan snapped a handcuff on Mia's wrist and led her to stand beside him facing the churchman across the desk. As in a daze, Mia heard the old familiar words.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together to join ..."
When the bewildered Mia drew in her breath for an exclamation, her husband to be tugged admonishingly at the metal on her wrist. The bride to be fell silent.
Happiness filled the room.