Chapter 5
Nancy Turpin
I wanted Angelique so bad it hurt. I went away from Dorothy's place that evening knowing I would have to do something about it. But doing something about it was actually very easy because I knew all the girls and they always figured I'd be a member whenever I could afford it. Saving up the money would take far too long, I'd bum up with desire long before then. So I sold that lovely old piece of Chinese pottery Grandma left me, the price I got for it was ample to insure my membership in the Sensuality Club and I was given the nicest welcome. When I asked for darling Angelique for a couple of weeks there was some doubts and discussions. But they had a new girl named Connie and that helped. I got the girl of my dreams. I've have never been so breathless for so long. It was agreed that my initiation could wait a couple of weeks until I passed Angelique on to another girl, and it was made pretty clear that if there was any evidence that I abused Angelique, my initiation would be correspondingly painful. I could have cared less, I was so damned happy.
I had to laugh when I took possession of my slavegirl, poor Dorothy had her doubts about me and Angelique was frankly scared. The poor darling was remembering the things I had wanted to do to her, and now I could do them and she was helpless, Having her helpless was a gorgeous sensation.
Dorothy wanted my slavegirl to sit beside me in the front seat of the car. She said that we could tie her ankles tight and that was all that was needed to keep her safe. That was the way they had always done it. I pointed out how ridiculous it was for a slavegirl to share the same comforts as her mistress, and the proper place for dear Angelique was in the trunk with her elbows tied tight and a nice gag firm in her mouth. Once more I had to cope with Dorothy's distress over what she said was being mean, and this I did this firmly.
"You've spoiled the dear girl," I pointed out reasonably. "If you had her around much longer it would be you who wore the handcuffs. Stop being silly. What I am going to do with Angelique will do her a world of good."
Dorothy gulped. Probably her guilty conscious about being too soft on a slavegirl. The Rules taught us all that being too easy on our slavegirls was a thing to avoid. Slavegirls were to always know their place. I'll hand it to Angelique that she kept quiet during this discussion. She'd been well trained and was probably scared to say a word.
I brought my own strap for Angelique's elbows. I should have used rope but know how Dorothy would feel about that. The sweet thing stood still while I buckled her arms back tight. She then opened her mouth in the nicest way for the gag. As I strapped it tight my heart was thudding so hard I thought they'd hear. The three of us then went down to my car. I thought Dorothy's heart was going to break as she said goodbye to my new possession. Angelique couldn't say a thing. Dorothy kissed and fondled those lovely breasts that were sticking out so nicely under the thrust of my strap. I let her carry on for a while, contenting myself with the thought that those large breasts were going to be mine, all mine.
But enough is enough. I said sharply that perhaps I should leave them alone so they could go to bed. Angelique couldn't step into the trunk so Dorothy and I took half each and lifted her over and in onto the rug I had there. We watched her wiggled to find the most comfortable way to lie before we slammed down the lid. Dorothy and I had always been the best of friends but I could tell she was wishing none of this had to happen. But she put on a brave face and kissed my goodbye as though she meant it. I drove away in a state of excitement beyond anything I had ever know. My pulse was pounding out a rhythm in my mind, "I've got her, I've got her, I'VE GOT HER!"
It's quite a ride to my place. By the time I got into the garage and opened the lid I could see Angelique was scared. I'd never thought about being tied up and naked in the trunk of a car but I suppose it isn't really all that much fun. I decided to leave the gag strapped tight for a few more minutes because it really did a lot for her. Most gags are horrible and don't do anything for any girl. But the one I used was maybe a bit cruel but it had nice artistic qualities I valued. I'm sure Angelique didn't like it but it was something she would have to put up with.
Getting slavegirl out of the trunk was easily than getting her in. She helped all she could and I soon had her standing on the garage floor. Angelique's collar and belt and the handcuffs and leg irons are the property of the club and have to stay on her all the time. The girls really hammered it into me about never giving the girl a chance to escape. They weren't being mean but just cautious. For sure Angelique would not escape from me!
It wasn't terribly late so I took my slavegirl up to the lounge where I unstrapped her elbows and took the gag out of her mouth. She said a polite, "Thank you, Nancy," and then, without being told, knelt on the rug to await my pleasure. I was brimming over with lust.
Angelique's been beautifully trained and in that way I'm extra lucky because I don't have to teach her. When I decide to be mean it will simply be for the sake of being mean. I will be the severe mistress, ruthlessly dominating a chained maiden who's nakedness was all mine. I was almost panting and could hardly keep my hands or eyes off this beautiful and most certainly sexy woman. "She's mine, she's mine, she's mine," kept running through my mind.
I didn't want a tipsy slave so made coffee instead of sipping brandy. I couldn't bear to be apart from this gorgeous creature I owned for the next two weeks so told her to stand up. When she did I bit her nipples and palmed her puss with the assurance of ownership. Angelique didn't say a word but stood passively for me to use her body while her hands were fastened safely behind her. I would have kept her elbows strapped were I not a little afraid of harming her. I had her follow me to the kitchen, and then had her sit and watch while I did the work for both of us.
I was chatty to break the ice to give Angelique a chance to get used to me and know what was expected of her. Or maybe I should say what she might expect from me. Unexpected it was Angelique who started things off.
"I hope you like me, Nancy. I'll try and do the things you want. I've been very well trained."
Angelique is far from being a child but the sweet innocent of her statement grabbed me so hard I bent down and kissed her nipples then played with her breasts while she sat motionless for my convenience until, with the same childish innocence, she asked, "Would you like me to stand so you can touch all of me?" She stared up into my eyes and actually smiled. I almost melted.
"Nancy, I'm a pretty pet, you know. I'm supposed to be played with for my owner's pleasure. I'm not embarrassed anymore."
"You're so damned perfect, you almost embarrass me."
Her grin was actually pert. "If I'm not perfect, I'm punished so I'm perfect. I try to be. It's not easy being a slavegirl. But I guess you know that."
"Why should I?"
Angelique shrugged. "Well, the things you did to me and said you would like to do. You know what you want from a slavegirl and you know it is going to hurt her. And I guess you also know there's nothing I can do about it except be obedient and hope to please."
"While all the time you'd love to slap my face."
"I've been taught my feelings don't matter."
I was fascinated. This lovely creature had a mind and used it. I would whip her tomorrow after having her give me release in bed tonight. But her mind was bonus it would give me pleasure to explore. I asked the obvious, "Don't you hate us all for what the girls have made of you?"
"I was at first but what's the use. I can't possibly escape, you all keep me a prisoner. And since most of the girls are kind and we shared a lot of laughs I'd be crazy to live with a chip on my shoulder. I've been enslaved and that's the end of it."
"But doesn't having your hands fastened behind your back drive you up the wall?"
"You get used to that in time." Angelique grinned. "As far as I'm concerned I don't have hands anymore."
It was fine to grin at your mistress but I thought it best to strike a sober note. "You expect to be whipped tomorrow?"
"I expected to be whipped tonight."
She was getting ahead of me so my voice was sharp, "You want that?"
"No. But you were so interested in asking Dorothy to allow you to whip me I naturally supposed ..."
"Don't the Rules forbid a slavegirl thinking?"
"You're right, they do. I'm sorry. Please punish me."
This was far, far out. I stared awestruck. "You're having me on?"
"Not according to the Rules. That's the response I'm suppose to make whenever I offend."
"I actually will whip you tomorrow, Angelique, my beauty. How does knowing about it affect you?"
"At the start, long ago, I would have been awake all night but now I'll simply say thank you, Nancy, and put it out of my mind until it starts to happen."
"Can you really do that!"
She tossed her lovely golden hair and shrugged. "Well, about half the time."
"I have some other things besides the whip."
"Most of the other girls have got those things, too. I try not to scream unless they want me to."
"If this girl hadn't been a prisoner of the club for over a year I would have figured she was putting me on. But a prisoner that long might well be trained that well. I could see a few fading marks from prior whippings on her skin. Perhaps some of those marks were even from Dorothy.
"Was Dorothy one of those who wanted you to scream?"
"She preferred me to be silent so I did my best." She smiled meekly. "You see, it hurts so terribly. I often think it hurts a girl far more than another girl can realize unless it's been done to her. Honest, the pain really is hard to endure."
This really got to me. It would have been so easy to kiss and hug that girl, and reassure her about not making it hurt too bad. But I realize that I've never been whipped so what do I know about it. And, anyway, I mustn't go soft the first night together. Perhaps a comprise.
"I won't pretend I won't hurt you, Angelique, we both know I will. But I'll try to remember what you said. If you were allowed to have your hands free, I'd allow you to give me one really awful stroke so I would know what it was like. But you can't do it. Maybe I'll get one of the other girls. Dorothy probably would."
While we finish our coffee I tried to embarrass this lovely plaything by frankly discussing her breasts, tits, pussy and sex. But Angelique is not the least bit embarrassed and discusses herself with an innocent frankness. I could easily realize Angelique had been forced to talk about her body before. I guess that is a part of slavery. Angelique was way ahead of me in some areas. When I took her up to bed both of us here quivering.
I'd never done it with a chained girl and the way Angelique slithered around on the covers was a pure delight. She no longer needed hands because she'd figured out every motion to perfection. My favorite position is for me to stand with hands clasp behind my back and feet apart for the other girl to kneel between my legs. That way everything she could possibly need stares her in the face. Angelique was perfect. Boy, has she been trained!
Oh, wow!
A girl to be whipped must first be tied. I can't see it any other way. During breakfast we discussed the many ways she has been tied by other girls and I pick up a lot of useful hints. Angelique discusses being tied to be whipped with her usual unconcern as though we were talking about the weather. I gather some of the girls have been really inventive with benches and frames and things to make me feel my resources inadequate. But when I speak of this, Angelique assures me that the best possible way to whip a girl is to raise her hands up high behind her back and there she is. The handcuffs work fine. With a quaint modesty she tells of other bindings designed to expose her sex and make it easy to whip her thighs. My slavegirl eats normally but I do not. I am a quivering bundle of desire and can hardly wait to hear my slavegirl scream. When I explain I would like her to scream, she innocently states that it is something easily arranged. Holly cow!
This is it! I know my slavegirl is frightened but that's the way it should be. If she kept up the perfect submission while I whip her the way I intend, I would have to be cruel. I want Angelique to scream. I want to make her scream so damned bad! I make a frank admission of this to see how she reacts. But even though she shivers in fright, she tells how other girls have said the same thing and how she can understand the way it is. She does not ask for mercy.
In my past fantasies I have always envisioned binding her hands together and raising them above her head to hold her taut with every inch of her loveliness exposed. Girls have such beautiful curves to make my mouth water. But with Angelique's handcuffs behind her back I don't see how I can possibly get the same effect. I consider unlocking the handcuffs and binding her wrists but this is against what the girls told me. I tell Angelique my problem. "That way would be nice," she admits thoughtfully. "Even if you hung me upside down my arms would still be in the way. Unless all you wanted to do was cane my bottom." She paused as though struggling for decision. "To raise my arms high enough behind wrenches my shoulders quite terribly. But I have to tell you it's quite possible to be done. It's been done to me. If you want to whip all of my back, I'm afraid that's the way you'll have to go."
If I don't do something quick, I'll explode. I have a hanging tether with a hook at its end. I fix the hook in Angelique's handcuffs and pull on the other end of the rope. Immediately she bends forward as her arms go up and her bottom sticks out so beautifully that I pause and wonder if I need go further. But Angelique instantly comes up with, "This position is only good for my bottom, Nancy. I thought you wanted to whip my back?"
I did. But that beautiful bottom sticking out there ... .
Her voice was quivering as she said, "You can leave me this way and whip my bottom. When you're finished with it, you can raise my arms up higher to expose my back. Nancy, I'm going to scream."
It was quite wonderful. I don't suppose my slave's bottom was any more tight or exposed than if I had had her bend and touch her toes. But the knowledge of her being fastened and unable to get away from anything I chose to do was worth a million dollars, it crinkled my cunt and prompted me to chose the whippiest cane I had. From the first blow Angelique took me into an enchanted land beyond my dreams.
We both knew she could do a lot of movement if she chose, even to turning in a complete circle. But she did not move and took my first few cuts with the softest of sounds and a slight weaving of hips. Her bottom remained an easy target. I slashed it savagely to make her straighten up and stamp one shackled foot. As she did that her arms sort of pulled up to bring the handcuffs closer to her neck. She did not hold the pose beyond one more stroke, I guess it was too awkward or too painful. Quickly she bent forward again with her hands held well above the tight curves I knew I could whip forever. In recognition of this obedience, I made her next stroke lighter than all the rest.
"Why haven't you asked how many I'm going to give you, Angelique? I'm curious."
"Mostly the girls don't tell, it's worse when I don't know."
This pause is pure delight. Angelique's breathing is mixed with gasps and even when I cease the strokes, her hips still weave and she makes small, nervous motions with chained feet. I assure myself this is the quintessence of every fantasy, that I no longer need wonder what the sound is like when lash impacts on maiden skin. I try to name the sound, straps or crops might make sounds of impact for which there is a word, but now I think only of cut and splat and thunk. There is also the sound of violins. I cut her curves again. This time Angelique screams to make my happiness complete.
Actually I am a novice but I wish to make myself a connoisseur of maiden suffering. It would be too easy to flail away in a frenzy of lust to drive this girl into a fearful hysteria by wondering into what dark hell she has been delivered. I have considered keeping Angelique fastened for the whip throughout the day and perhaps I will. I can visit her often and space her total punishment, and my own joy, across the hours in varied inflictions on her skin. It is so wonderful that I am the mistress over this slavegirl.
I tell Angelique of my wish to prolong her agony and am rewarded with a little "Thank you" which tells me she is relieved by the spacing out of punishment. I would have thought she would prefer to get it over with. But I expect she was accustomed in immobility and standing there didn't bother her so. By the end of the fourth hour I had caned Angelique's curves enough. This punishment was going to have to last me a while, I couldn't possibly whip the poor girl every day. But my voice trembled with eagerness as I explained, "I'm not going to raise your arms all the way, Angelique, dear."
It was beautiful and it was terrible. As my slave's bare arms rose slowly to evoke an owner's gasps and the distressful shifting of shackled feet. The effect was to do away with the lovely bend and curves and replace them with a stressed torso who's shoulders would come close to dislocation before the upward raising of the handcuffed wrists would cease. When my slavegirl began to moan I presumed I had gone far enough. Anyway, her back was no totally exposed. I gazed upon it's virgin skin in a hunger I could appease in only one way. I picked up my choice of whips and ran its thong lovingly through my fingers. Stretched thus, Angelique could not move.
My aim was flawless. The scarlet streak springing to live was fittingly accompanied by my slavegirl's scream. It was a beautiful scream, she had her heart in it. I did not strike immediately again but stood in awe to watch this creation of my own stand panting in a posture perhaps every bit as painful as the whip. Those handcuffs cut deeply into innocent wrists. I could not leave her thus for long and had to get on with it. The next stroke encircled her waist. I then allowed the rope to fall. I'll never know if it was the slave's training or the slave's true feelings that prompted her to say, "Thank you, Mistress," from her knees.
At that moment I could easily have called it a day.
But a mistress must be a mistress and I did not want Angelique to think me weak. But just the same I raised her erect and held her very close while kissing her savagely on the mouth and breasts. She was gorgeous, gorgeous beyond belief! It was with reluctance I positioned her again and re-engaged the hook. I'll have to speak to my fellow members about moving a girl's hands from back to front that she might be properly whipped and then left to stand for as long as a mistress wishes. Angelique did not even whimper when I raised her arms.
I was learning more about myself than about slaves. I had always thought myself a bitch but Angelique's perfection in enslavement was giving food for thought. With unseemly speed, as though ashamed of what I did, I raised her arms to the full limit of endurance, and then whipped her back again and again but without full force. Guiltily I once more let down the arms and listened to the screams quiet. Once more I held a sweating nakedness very close indeed.
My fingers traced the wounds raising upon skin that was without blemish. It was blemished now and I was the bitch behind the thong. I held my slavegirl for a long, long time.
It was not yet time for lunch. It is awful to think how little time it takes to whip a girl. But at least my hunger had been appeased and the need to whip Angelique more was no longer urgent. I had the darling for fourteen days so why exhaust my lust immediately? I led her to the lounge and poured us both a stiff brandy. I needed mine and from the way she gulped tier's, I knew she needed it as much. Suddenly we were a pair of girls sitting on a couch.
"Why didn't you raise my arms again and whip me more, Nancy?" my incredible slave asked.
"Enough is enough," I said with a fine mistressy finality. "Surely you don't want me to take you back and do it over!"
"No, of course not. I just want to say thank you for being kind." She came to a blushing pause. "You were being kind even if you don't realize it"
"Have you ever been whipped that bad before?"
"Yes. I thought you knew. I've been whipped terribly several times in the past year. But they've been punishments because I've been naughty."
"For instance?"
"Well, once for impertinence. And another was for arguing. That sort of thing. I had been properly warned so I can't say I was not fairly treated."
"Did I treat you fairly?"
"No, of course not. You were whipping me out of caprice. You wanted to see me in pain. Since you are my mistress for two weeks, I cannot make complaint. I am simply grateful it is over."
I adored her and could easily understand Dorothy's feelings. Looking down at her as she knelt, I found myself wondering what it was like for a girl to have her wrists handcuffed forever behind her back. I squelched sympathy and knew I would have to watch myself and hold the line against a degree of submission more power than whips. I laughed but said, "Would you enjoy clips on your nipples, darling?"
"No. But thank you anyway."
"But suppose I put them on you?"
"Then I will wear them. Oh, Nancy, it's so terribly simple, you can do anything you want with me. Please don't tease."
"It pleases me to clip your nipples."
"Very well, then, I will stick them out. There, you see, I am a well-trained slave."
Angelique was glorious, so were her nipples which she thrust to point at me. Once more I was defeated by an emotion I could not name. I retorted, "All right, all right, don't worry I'm not going to put the clips on your nipples or anywhere else right now. Dorothy stopped me putting them on your pussy lips and maybe that's something I will really do. Right now I want you to tell me of some of the punishments other girls have given you. Come on, don't be shy."
"May I have some more brandy, Nancy?"
"I was hard on you, wasn't I?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so. Don't give me the brandy if you don't think I deserve it."
Right then I would have given her anything and kicked myself for doing it. I poured brandy and held it to her lips with tender, loving care. I was more and more sympathizing with Dorothy, this girl was a witch.
"I really don't get tortured a great deal." Once more Angelique's voice was apologetic as if wishing she had numerous tortures to relate. "No many girls have what you would call instruments of torture. But one of them has a rack and she stretched me on it enough to scare me to death and hurt quite a bit, mostly my ankles and wrists where the ropes cut as she turned the wheel. But it wasn't really dramatic because after a while she had to let me loose. My hands and feet were going purple." Angelique contrived a chuckle. "I guess when a girl is really and truly racked by a torturer, those little things don't count. Anyway, that's how it was with me.
"Oh, I almost forgot, I also got whipped a little between my legs. But it wasn't a very bad whip and I didn't scream much."
"This is interesting, carry on."
"There was the girl who suspended me by my big toes, but she got in trouble with the girls because she might have damaged me real bad, and none of the members want a damaged slave. They gave her the choice of being kicked out of the Sensuality Club or taking twenty hard strokes with a really beastly whip. She chose the whip and the club made quite a deal out of it, an evening's entertainment up on the stage. I felt sorry for her as she screamed. Especially when two girls pulled her legs far apart and the girl with the whip slashed up inside. I would have asked them to be more kind if I hadn't been gagged at the time. They always gag a girl when she's got something to say."
"Sounds reasonable to me," I said helpfully. "How's she treated you since?"
"The rotation hasn't taken me around to her yet. But I expect you'll be amused by the girl who stuck me on the pole." Angelique was in full stride. "It should have been a plank set on its edge with sharp sides close together but I guess that was too awful for any of them to allow, so all I got was a pole. I guess you know about the horse?"
"No, I don't."
"It's pretty simple," Angelique mused. "They sit a naked girl on anything with sharp edges like a plank and stretch her feet as far as they will go to either side so she can't fall off. They raise her arms up behind her back. There she sits with her full weight on her pussy and whatever sharp thing it is she's sitting on. It isn't a bit nice and after a while even a round pole got so I couldn't bear it and I started to scream. Fortunately the girl who did this to me had invited guests and it was them who insisted on her taking me off. She caned my bottom instead. The Sensuality Club doesn't really believe in torture."
"Are you warning me, dear?"
"No, of course not. AH you've done is whip me and that's not torture at all. Not as long as it's done with an approved whip."
The lovely hurt voice trailed off into silence. I could well imagine Angelique thinking back to the agonies endured at the hands of club members.
"You say being whipped is not torture, how bad is it?"
"Oh, that!" Angelique positively laughed. "It hurts beyond bearing. It's so bloody awful during those first moments you want to die. But after a while the pain spreads itself out all over and the place where the whip cut your skin becomes a slow burn which makes a girl shockingly horny."
"You're horny now?"
"Yes. I'm terribly sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Would you like me to whip up between your legs?"
My slavegirl looks at me mournfully. "I would only last through one or two strokes and then I would be screaming again." A pause and then she raised her chin defiantly. "It's still early in the day and you can do anything you want."
"That sounds as if you want me to whip you again."
"I know it does. I'm crazy. But when a girl gets sexually aroused beyond a certain point, that's about all you can do with her."
Then she suggests that she is talking silly and we should change the subject. Well, that sounds too much like she's talking equality with me, suggesting what we should talk about. The Sensuality Club is very strict about that, a slavegirl is a slavegirl. I should whip Angelique until she becomes once more submissive and demure. But my taste for the thong has diminished as I watch the marks I've put there rise up and glow their scarlet scald. Surely there must be something else, and I realize how totally I have been obsessed with the whipping of girls, forgetting the other things so easily inflicted on a helpless, naked girl. I say, "I'm not going to punish you any more now. I'm still learning about punishing girls. I will think up a simple punishment that you won't like and then try it on you. How does that sound?"
I get a look sort of like a smile and a retort, "Sure, why not!"
She is maintaining equality. I wonder if she knows! Perhaps it has become commonplace during her year of slavery to discuss punishment with the girl who will inflict it. No doubt striving towards a happy medium of pain she can endure. I am forced to realize Angelique is more experienced in the matter of enslavement than I. Somehow, without seeming to try, I must regain initiative.
"Never mind, darling, I've just thought of something I'll enjoy. I've got a little cage just made to fit a girl and after lunch I'm going to put you inside and lock the door. It's something I can't imagine you enjoying." I tell her this with a full feeling of control. Then she defeats me.
"Thank you, Nancy. I'm sure that will work out very well. I've been told about these little, cages and how awful they are if she's kept inside too long. I'm sure I'll become very well behaved."
Gosh, what the hell else can I do!
Lunch is delightful. I never tire of watching Angelique's breasts hover above her plate. It occurs to me how sweet they would appear with the little clips alive on the nipples. It's wonderful how owning Angelique removes urgency.
I'm not rich like most of the rest, so I don't have maids or cooks or servants, just this old house I inherited. Lunch, therefore, is just sandwiches. She eats so well with her hands handcuffed behind her back. What a strange thought that this lovely girl will be handcuffed all the rest of her life. Jeepers!
I sort of apologize to Angelique for the lack of splendor in my home. The luxury she's used to isn't here. But she shrugs that off by pointing out that the more money a mistress has the more likely she is to have cells down in the basement or a dungeon. I laugh at the vision of that and then feel a bitch when I think of the little cage in which this gorgeous creature will soon crouch. We are both aware I do not have to punish Angelique at all but simply keep her prisoner and enjoy her company. But two weeks seems so little time in which to do all the lovely things possible to the body of a girl. I don't want to waste a minute and am now increasingly aware of wanting to whip Angelique all over again. As I eat my sandwich and think of her jerking under the thong, I am aware of heat. There is nothing I can do to Angelique from which I can get so great a happiness as placing marks on her skin, and I realize she has a lot of skin still untouched. It is potently there.
I speak to Angelique of this hunger in my flesh.
Angelique does not answer right away with quiet assurances of submission, but quietly thinks of what I say. "If the urge to whip me is that strong, Nancy, you almost have to do it. If you don't, it's going to bother you and it will be something between us we do not share." She eyed me doubtfully. "I desperately don't want to be whipped again. But if it's something you must do, then it's something you must do."
"Do the other girls feel as guilty as I do after they've whipped you?"
Angelique's laugh is almost gay. "I'm always hurting too much to know what they're feeling. But I'm sure I'm hurting much more than they are. I don't think they do feel guilty. We both know I'm a slave and a girl doesn't have to feel guilty for whipping a slave. You'll get used to owning me after a while and then you won't feel guilty." Anxiously she adds, "Are you really going to whip me again today, Nancy? Don't feel you have to."
This girl is just too much! I take her downstairs and lock her in the cage.
Owning Angelique is more of a problem than I had ever dreamed. It's not her, it's me! I no sooner come back up stairs than I'm lonely. I've taken this two weeks off from my job and I'm not like the other girls with their investments and things. I keep thinking of that lovely girl with her arms handcuffed behind her back and her legs bend up around her chin so she can fit into that small wire mesh cage in the corner of my basement. Angelique had given me a grin as I left her alone but she can scarcely move and can't be enjoying herself all that much. I should have left her upstairs so we could talk and I would hear some more about her slavery. I might also have taken her for a ride in the car. This ride in the car bit is another thing with which I was becoming intrigued with. This time I wouldn't put her in the trunk but let her sit beside me as Dorothy wanted. The fact was Angelique had got under my skin and I needed her a lot more than she needed me. After all, any girl who is owned by twenty-five other girls cannot possibly be too dependent on any one.
I was on my way down stairs when I pulled up and told myself to smarten up. I was a member of the Sensuality Club and if I spoiled their pet slavegirl rotten, I'd be in dutch with the whole bunch. To keep Angelique's respect for me as a part owner of her person, I'd have to leave her in that cage for at least an hour or two. Of course, I could always whip her again. I was debating this possibility when the doorbell rang.
If I'd needed a policeman I expect the uniformed male on my doorstep would have been all right. And the uniformed female beside him was pretty. But the last thing I needed was the police. I stood there stupidly and stared which they stared back in obvious suspicion.
"Miss Nancy Turpin?"
I said yes and this was where I lived. He then handed me a search warrant which said he could turn my home inside out if he wanted. They both walked in.
The policeman told the policewoman to stay with me while he looked things over. I was so scared I was trembling. The policewoman was looking at me in a way that shouted criminal. I wanted to come up with some words to make contact with her and let her know I not a criminal, just a normal human being, but my mind shut down. One vivid picture stood before my mind, that of a tiny mesh cage in the basement with one naked and chained girl in it.