"Do not feel badly, darling." Dorinda kisses me. "You did not fail. That asinine creature damn near killed you. Don´t think Terry or I could have done better. I think he is sorry. But he´ll never say so." She grinned in an apologetic way.
"You do understand, don´t you? We can have the run of the ship the way we are," she clinked her handcuffs, "but any male who wants us can have us. It does no good to fight. It´s best to lay down....."
"You talk as a slave," I told her. I did not approve.
"I am a slave, darling. So are you. You simply do not know it yet."
"You think I should lay down so that silly Cuthbert or that obscene Alfred can shoot his sperm into me?"
"What else can we do, dear?" She was so gentle. She tugged at her handcuffs and made much noice with their links so that I would understand our impotence. Girls´ bodies without hands. Bodies to be used.
"I will show you what we do," I said. Then I realized and turned to her in sorrow for a thing we could not share. "A thing That I can do.....!" I amended.
I tore my eyes away from hers. I looked at nothing, not even at Terry upon my plank with my bonds upon her feet as I passed her by on my journey. I knew, with surety, what I must do. He was there at his desk with his papers. So big. So big a man. He looked at me in wonder. No doubt he though I would have no wish to be near him after what he had done to me. For a minute neither of us spoke. Then I told my mission.
"Dorinda tells me I am a slave, open, available to all your crew?"
He nodded as though his thoughts were elsewhere.
"I do not wish to be fucked by rubish."
He focued now. He had heard my words.
"If I am to be fucked, it should be by you. I wish it so. You are the captain. You own me."
I had his attention. He was smiling, interested.
"If I am to be communal property, at least you should be first."
He looked up at me. Amazed. Flattered. I was not sure.
"You want me to fuck you?" he asked pleasantly.
"I want you to be first."
He nodded thoughtfully. For a little while he looked at me in silence. Then, in a very tired voice, he said: "Oohhh dear....." as though I had placed a great load upon him, and cocked an eyebrow. "You want this?" he asked with great emphasis.
In an absent sort of way he got to his feet. He went to a drawer. When he turned he held a cane. The cane. "Bend over, silly girl," he said. My eyes were full of tears. I had failed. Oh how dismally I had failed. My master did not want me. I had offended. Wretchedly I touched my toes with hands chained benind my back. Everything was absurd and impossible. I arched my back as I had seen Dorinda do. My bottom stuck out nicely. I waited for the cane.
It hurt me very much. Yet I do not think that Mike hit me as hard as he could have done. I think this. How scalding they were, those lovely stripes. My time upon the plank had inured me to pain. I was grateful. I wanted te bear his punishment with honor. I gasped. I flinched. But I did not disgrace myself. I was proud. He stopped at five. My bottom burned. But I knelt before him and said: "Thank you, master."
I stood. He did not help me. He was again seated. Now I understood. "I was wrong, master. You will fuck me when it may please you. Not when it pleases me."
He nodded, very briefly, and returned to his papers.
I went to search for Dorinda. My bottom was on fire, my loins demanding. I was only a girl. When I found her we kissed for very long. "We will find a quiet place," she whispered. I was glad. I needed her love. She looked at me questioningly. "What did you find?" she asked. "Only that I am a slave," I said.
We came back to her by a sort of gravitation. We could not stay away. The lovely c***d with her legs spread so wide upon her perch of pain. How beautiful she was, sitting quietly in her loneliness. How long would Mike keep her there? We never know. We must not ask. I learn quickly from my pain and from the things Dorinda whispers. She senses us. She turns, already smiling. It is a small smile. But it is not tears. She has shed those. The stains are still upon her cheeks. She cannot wipe them away. We can not wipe them for her. Our hands, too, are locked behind our backs. We may share only our lips. I do not give the darling lamentations. Or ask silly questions about the pain. These things are known. My face tells her of my shame and of my love. She speaks for me.
"I don´t weigh very much, darling. So it hurts me less," she giggled.
"My little thingummy won´t be sideways."
"Have they whipped you?"
"Just a couple from Alfred. He sais we are just getting stew today, so he has time. So kind of him." She wrinkled her nose. "I think if either of you had been in sight when he was through with me he´d have found time for you too. Whipping me gets him the damndest hard on. I almost laughed the way he kept looking at what I´m sitting on."
I am aware of my nakedness. Terry´s words make me aware of the thing between my legs that all now may see. There seems nothing that does not provoke awareness. Almost I am glad that my hands are forcibly held behind my back. I do not have the shame of trying to use them foolishly. Fastened as I am, it is by no volition of mine that men may gaze upon my body. Strangely the handcuffs divorce me from guilt. But now, suddenly, I long for clothes. Cuthbert has come into view.
"Why Cuth! Have you come to whip me?"
Incredible Terry! But Dorinda has explained that two strokes in this situation is de rigueur. A girl may absorb two and remain flippant. Cuth is embarrassed by his audience.
"Had it in mind, miss," he looked at Dorinda slyly. "Won´t bother you none, will it?"
"Of course it bothers me, you idiot. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
Cuthbert is ashamed. I can tell. But he picks up the whip.
"Pity your hands are in back, miss."
"Yes, isn´t it, darling? Unlock one handcuff and you´ll have a free field."
"If you must whip a girl, whip me." Dorinda said disgustedly.
"Or me," I could offer no less.
I saw our mistake instantly. Cuthbert´s smile grew from ear to ear. With tremendous male superiority he whipped all three of us on our thighs where the handcuffs did not impede. It hurt very much. Even with the futile Cuth, a girl cannot win. He laughed at our chagrin.
"I got time to fuck one of you," he volunteered generously. He examined us whose feet were free. "I done you already," he said to Dorinda. He turned to me. "Guess it´s your turn, miss. Come on. We´ll go below."
How I hated Mike! To leave me to this oaf! I tugged at my handcuffs in fury. "If you come near me I´ll kick you in your genitals," I threatened.
How awful to be a girl aboard the "Quest". Naked. Handcuffed! Even a nothing like Cuth can do what he pleases with us. I had threatened him. But I had never felt more vulnerable.
"Leave her alone," Dorinda said crossly. "She belongs to Mike."
"You all belong to Mike," Cuthbert sneered. "Mike ain´t put out no word against the boys screwing the Princess."
"You touch her and I´ll kick whatever bit of you she doesn´t," Dorinda promised.
"You don´t know how to screw anyway," Terry taunted from her perch. Almost I felt sorrow for Cuthbert. He flushed. He shuffled, looking from one to the other of us resentfully. But he was male. On the "Quest" the male must win. He picked up the whip. He looked at me.
"You don´t want to be fucked. O:K: I´ll make you a deal. Leastways you can make me one," he smiled the omnipotent male smile. "How many strokes you want to ask me for to get off the hook?"
Complacent. Smug. Triumphant! I hated him. I thought of turning and running away. But on a ship where can a girl go that she is not found and punished? I wanted to scream in fury. To ask to be whipped that I be not fucked! Not even certain that the lashes for which I would plead would satisfy his lechery! Now I must hate myself.
"Please give me five strokes with the whip, Cuthbert," I asked sweetly.
He smirked. "That all your little cunt´s worth, Princess? Hell, it´s better value for me to take the piece of tail."
"Give me five as well then," Dorinda offered. "To be able to lash a pair of naked girls ten times ought to turn you on."
But Cuthbert was winning, enjoying our desperation.
"Let´s have a bit o´ serious bidding," he suggested amaibly.
"Five on them little rumps you got ain´t nothin´."
If only he knew. Men do not know how they hurt us. They think us some pretty piece of rubber. Suddenly Dorinda turned and ran.
"Stay still, you!" Cuth pointed the whip at me. He did not mind seeing Dorinda go. His concupiscence had focused on me. I was new. I was Arab. He was enjoying his mastery.
"Come on now," he coaxed. "Make me a serious offer."
"You don´t have to," Terry interjected. "You girls with your legs free aren´t supposed to be whipped like that. The whip´s just for me."
"You said it, miss," Cuthbert approved. "Them with their legs free: What are their legs free for?" he smirked as at some clever logic. "But the Princess here don´t want to spread her pretty legs. So I´m giving her a way out..... Ought to be grateful." He looked at me lewdly. "Are you grateful, miss?"
"Please whip me fifteen times," I asked flatly.
"You really value that twat of yours!" His voice held genuine
admiration. "O.K. You´re doing better. What am I offered now?"
"Please strike me with the whip twenty times."
I was frightened. He was jubilant. "You can´t do it!" Terry asserted vehemently. "Oh darling, don´t let him. You won´t be able to stand it. Twenty is terrible. A girl has to be tied to even stay in one place. But even then she can´t endure so many. Don´t be silly, Cuth. Twenty will mark her shockingly. Mike will be mad."
I don´t think he heard her. His eyes had been devouring me. I expect I was cringing as much outside as I was inside. Twenty! Why had I said it..... But then, did I have a choise?
"How do you want me?" I asked him, trying hard to keep panic out of my voice.
"Bend over, Princess. Spread your legs."
I obeyed. He meant to hurt me cruelly. The handcuffs bit at my wrists. The white hot brand found me again. I cried out in despair. I was flesh and bl**d. I was a girl. Twenty.....!
"Ain´t you got work to do, Cuth?" It was Mike´s voice. I dared not move. Perhaps Mike would whip me now. But a hand beneath my chin raised me upright. I saw Dorinda, panting, scared. She had fetched him. Now she would be punished. Cuth was gone. Mike grinned down at me. He is so big.
"Damndest girl for getting into jackpots."
I looked at him through tears. He picked me up in his arms as though I was a doll. He nodded good-naturedly at Dorinda. "Thanks, k**. You´re home free." I saw the tension leave her. She became beautiful. He would not whip her. He carried me to his office.
I must stand before his desk. I did not mind. I had no wish to sit at just that moment. But my master sat, lounging comfortably and looking at me with amusement. "Turn around slowly, sweetheart. All the way. I want to see your decorations."
I turned very slowly indeed. I knew the number of whipmarks I bore would be beautiful on a girl. I have seen them often on others. He nodded appreciatively when I had completed my circle.
"You´re a damn lovely girl, Thalia."
"Thank you, master."
"Where did you get that ´Master´ bit? I never told you."
"It seemed proper," I looked at him hesitantly. "Do I do wrong?"
"You do it damn well," he conceded.
"Am I not a slave, master?"
He grinned wryly. "Why did you ask that bonehead to whip you?"
I flushed. "I have told you, master. I do not wish to be used by the crew. I have told you my wish." I was afraid. "Should I bend over, Master?" I was certain that I should.
Mike sat and enjoyed me. I was pleased to be enjoyed. Perhaps, after all, I should not be whipped.
"You were ready to take twenty strokes just to keep it for me?" his voice was very serious.
"Suppose I fuck you now, and pay you for it with twenty strokes after?"
"Yes, master. Oh, yes please.....!"
Thoughtfully my master unlocked my handcuffs. He smiled.
It was a delightful garden party. The napery and the ritual, the sloping lawns, even the trees, might have been a transplant from an English County Mansion. The music of Vienna drifted across the scene from some unknown source. The blue Aegean sparkled. It was a day to be alive.The crowd was dense. It bespoke wealth. To create the House, the terraces, the grounds meant very great wealth indeed. The livery of the staff was ducal. The waiters and their helpers could have come from Claridges or the Savoy. Perhaps they had.
In the middle of it stood Dorinda, naked, handcuffed. No one stared. It was not a nightmare. She would not wake up. It was vividly real. Her hands were prettily linked before her so that she could manage the cup of tea with her usual competence. A British type in white flannels was being frightfully jolly for her benefit. His eyes rarely strayed below her nipples.
"Frightfully decent of Sandos to bring you girls. Harriet´s delighted. I say..... Are you quite sure you can manage? I mean, those things on your wrists....." "Don´t you like my handcuffs?" Dorinda twinkled at him.
"Smashing! Simply smashing. The whole ensemble, I mean," he blushed.
"Don´t suppose you did Goodwood this year?"
"They won´t let me in the Paddock in chains and sans clothes."
"Quite so. See what you mean. You, er, always wear them?"
"I´m never without them," said Dorinda truthfully.
"That´s a really corking girl with you. The sort of tawny one."
"Her name is Thalia. I´ll introduce you."
"Oh, I say, would you? I´m most terribly impressed. Those whip marks....."
"Do you whip girls yourself, Mr. Smythe?"
"Well, er, as a matter of fact....." "We get whipped regularly. Could I have another cup of tea?"
They were joined by the United States. Probably Oklahoma. "Honey, you´re a sight for sore eyes. How much do you charge?"
Mr. Smythe blinked. "Charge for what?" Dorinda asked.
"Them whip marks. Mighty purty. I´d like to whip your ass."
"You´ll have to see my owner for that," Dorinda clinked her handcuff.
"I´m a slave."
"Bit of a bounder, what!" Mr. Smythe blinked after the retreating figure in search of Mike. "Took you seriously. No sense of humour. I liked that slave bit. Jolly good."
"I am a slave. Honestly I am."
"You mean, you can´t..... you can´t.....?"
"Escape, you mean?" Dorinda looked at her companion appraisingly. He was not her first. "How would you like to help me get away?"
"I´m afraid I have no key."
"You don´t need a key. Just tell the police when you get home. Or I´ll give you a phone number."
Musingly she watched him mingle with the crowd, inarticulate, red faced.Mike had been on firm ground when he had brought them here. This time it was a girl. "I think I´d die," she admitted, quite frankly looking down at Dorinda´s pubic hair.
"Nudity is not fatal," Dorinda explained. "Would you tell the police about us? Or call a number I´ll give you?"
"You don´t really understand, do you?" the girl was amused.
"All I understand is that I´m one of three naked girls in a crowd of a couple of hundred people properly clothed," Dorinda said bitterly. "Come on, I´ll show you. No sense spoiling your day with this escape nonsense." The girl´s touch on her arm was warm. Dorinda allowed herself to be led across the lawn.
It was pleasant in the trees. Even there the evidence of care and cultivation was. The effect was Arcadian. There were statues. But these were not out of context on a Grecian Isle. One of the statues moved and waved a hand. "Yo, ho, Tuppy," the naked girl stood by a marble column to which her ankle was chained.
"Oh good! It´s Polly. She´s not supposed to move. But doesn´t matter with us."
"New girl, Tuppy?" Polly eyed Dorinda with friendly interest.
"A guest. The "Quest" is in port."
"Oh him!" Polly wrinkled her nose.
"Mr. Sandos whipped her once," explained Tuppy. "But don´t let´s talk about him. I´m trying to show Dorinda the Island. She thinks she can escape. Or at least, she thinks she ought to escape."
Polly snorted and kicked her ankle chain. "Nobody escapes," she said without rancour. "You´ve come to the wrong shop if you want escapes." "You see," Said Tuppy eyeing her guest with amusement, "there´s none of us really want to."
"Us? You mean you.....?"
"That´s right, darling. I´m one of Harriet´s stable. But she wanted a bit of help with the crowd so I get te wear clothes and to walk around without clinking: That´s right. I wear chains too. But thank heavens the dear girl hasn´t taken to popping us naked into her garden parties. That´s probably Mike´s idea. He doesn´t give a damn what people think Besides, he´ll quietly chuckling about your efforts to get someone to help you."
"Why won´t they help me?"
"Because they like seeing you as you are. They are a select group all with the same notion. You know: the good old deviant thing. They aren´t about to spoil a good thing."
"But you could escape!" Dorinda was puzzled. "With all your freedom....."
"Poor girl doesn´t understand," said Polly.
Tuppy laughed joyfully. She reached out and tweaked Dorinda´s handcuffs.
"Don´t tell us you don´t secretly love these?"
"I hate ´em! I´m sick of chains."
"You aren´t really, y´know. You just think you are. If you ever did escape you´d come right back."
"Like Hell I would!" Thinking of Mike, Dorinda was vehement. "But you were saying....?"
"Well all these chaps and women who love to whip us and chain us and lock us up: your Mike, for instance. They are in a class by themselves, aren´t they? I mean, they´re not just everyday." She grinned at Dorinda´s frowning attention.
"Well, there´s one group. Why shouldn´t there be a group who love the same thing in reverse? There is. The world is full of girls who love to be submissive and wear chains ang get their little bottoms caned when they´re bad. Most of ´em don´t have the guts or the chance to make it real. But we did. Didn´t we, Pol?"
Polly rattled her chain. "Harriet´s the answer to a maiden´s prayer," she said fervently. "This Island is closer to heaven than most girls ever get."
"You like being chained as an ornament in here among the trees?" Dorinda asked dubiously.
"Got to take the rough with the smooth," Polly admitted.
"I´d have liked Tuppy´s job today. But if I make a fussss I get caned. So here I am."
"You just said you liked being caned." Dorinda was suspicious.
"There´s two kinds, darling. Six of the best can make me frantic with lust. But twelve a little harder has me weeping in buckets and promising anything if only she´ll stop."
Dorinda remembered Terry. Why argue? "Who is ´she´?"
"´She´s Harriet, of course. She adores caning. She hardly ever lets us girls do any." Polly tittered. "Off course, sometimes when she isn´t looking....."
"But how did you get here in the first place?"
"You can see how many friends she has. They carry the word. The head of the firm I used to work for introduced me. Harriet makes us sign a contract. Don´t suppose it would hold up in Court. But it makes us understand what we are getting into. We renounce everything: mainly freedom and men. We enter a wholly lesbian society, from which we know for sure we will never be allowed to escape. The chains we love become very real. Even if I now, the way I am, attempted to use my bit of freedom as Hostess to get me off the Island, I´d be delivered back to Harriet. The punishment is pretty awful. I tried it once. I never will again."
"But why did you try if it´s so damn good?"
"Same silly state of mind you´re in. You get to thinking and feel claustrophobic. And then there´s a nutty feeling of guilt, that you really ought to try..... Harriet canes it out of us."
"Why don´t you ask Harriet to make a deal for you with Mike?" Tuppy suggested brightly. "He probably just k**napped you, didn´t he? I mean, he didn´t pay any money for you?"
They were interrupted by the advent of two male guests, strolling. "Into the trees." Tuppy nudged Dorinda. "Watch and listen."
Sound carried well: "Woman´s a genius." The male voice was almost reverent. "Dungeons! Oh absolutely, nothing´s faked."
"Those naked girls?"
"Understand they aren´t on staff." A chuckle. "Not inmates. That chap Sandos lugs ´em around the Mediterranean in his Boat. Sort of floating bagnio. I say! What have we here....."
"By George, she´s real!"
Dorinda peeped. Polly stood quite still, holding a truly charming pose.
"Damn well done, old man. I must say....."
"I told you. The woman´s a wonder. Always something....."
"I´m going to feel this and see how warm it is." The voeice was husky.
"I wouldn´t if I was you, old boy. Not if you want to be invited again."
"Oh. Like that, eh. Ah well....."
The voices and their owners drifted off into the trees. Polly visibly relaxed. "Come on," Tuppy urged. "You might as well have a good look." Following where she was led, Dorinda looked back. Polly was sitting on the grass, her chained foot awkwardly outstretched. She waved a cheery good-bye.
"There´s other things besides the cane," Tuppy explained. "Harriet won´t use a whip. So we don´t get flogged. But if we´ve been a nusiance she uses all sorts of imprisonment and immobility. Sometimes it´s fun and really lustmaking. Other times it´s bl**dy awful."
Asmall door into the lower regions of the house. Passages! The place was undeniably a dungeon. The door alone was frightening. Inside was pure gloom. It held two naked girls. They faced each other from opposite walls, their narrow waists confined and constricted by a metal band that locked into the stone and held them clamped to it. That was all. But it was enough. They were totally prisoned. They greeted Tuppy with sounds of joy and longing.
"You lucky cat."
"Oh Tuppy, get us out of this."
"They were impertinent," Tuppy explained. "They´re not really as unhappy as they pretend."
"We are..... we are!" The voices wailed. "Oh Tuppy, don´t be a b**st."
"Couldn´t free ´em if I wanted to," Tuppy admitted cheerfully as they returned to the party. "Harriet keeps the punishment keys." She looked at Dorinda´s face curiously.
"You noticed there were two in there. Harriet is decent about that. She won´t lock us alone in a dungeon. If there aren´t two girls deserving punishment at just that moment one of the rest of us gets elected and bunged in there to keep the guilty one company. Bit rough sometimes. But she says it´s for the good of our souls. We don´t complain much. Certainly not when she´s listening."
Dorinda´s mind was whirling. More than anything else she longed for the tranquillity of Kyrexos and of Mark. Dear Mark. Mike and this absurd Harriet were pure phantasmagoria. No sooner did she get her mind adjusted to one condition of servitude than she was plunged into another. She thought, wryly, that for her a chain was a chain was a chain. The person who locked the other end of it to something mattered little. Most of them whipped her. Those that did not gave her no key. "I still think I´d like to escape." She said dolefully. "But thanks anyway, you´ve been kind."
Truly there was no escape. Suddenly it was Harriet herself. A chunky woman with a genial eye and great authority. Tuppy melted away.
"What d´you think, darling," the voice boomed. "Like to enter my stable?"
"I´m not a horse," Dorinda temporised. The question was an awkward one to answer without giving offence.
"You´re a damn trim filly. Bet you twitch under the tongue." The laughter was hearty. Dorinda managed a smile.
"I´m afraid I belong to Mr. Sandos," she said formally.
"Hell, girl, Mike would sell his mother if the price was right. He doesn´t need three of you. And anyway, he´s the most adept k**napper this side of Chicago."
"There´s Terry....." Dorinda wanted to explain. But it was all too absurd.
"Like that, eh! Makes it even better. What the Hell does Mike want with a pair of sixty-niners."
"I don´t think he minds. What we want doesn´t count."
"Wouldn´t you sooner be owned by someone who did mind?"
Dorinda found herself beginning to listen.
"But it´s all the same..... Being whipped..... and dungeons."
"Hell, girl. You need a holiday. You´re pooped."
Suddenly Dorinda found herself embraced. Harriet was very warm and smelt of woman. She tried to use her locked hands to return the hug, but failed. Suddenly she was weeping on a capacious shoulder.
"Sure he´s a bastard, c***d. He´s famous for it. Given you all a bad time by the look of your hides."
"But you´d cane us." Sob, sob.
"Of course I would, girl. If no one touched that pretty skin of yours any more you´d be lost. Don´t k** yourself. You´re too far down the road. I can tell by looking."
"Would you really buy both of us?" Sniffles.
"I´ll have a damn good try."
"If I ever have a chance to escape, I´ll take it."
"You´ll never have a chance, sweetheart. So don´t worry."
Dorinda looked about her once more. Harriet grinned cheerfully and kissed her soundly. The milling throng politely failed to notice their hostess´s intimacy with a naked girl.
"I been looking all over," said Mike grinmly. "Thought you´d made a run for it. Was just about ready to loose the bl**dhounds. What you think of her, Harriet?"
"I wish to buy her, Mike."
"And the young one too."
"You´re k**ding!" He looked from Dorinda´s tear stained features to his hostess´s genial contemplation. "You ain´t k**ding, are you?" He did not sound angry. "What´s the price?"
"Dammit, man. Don´t you know what you want for ´em? Got ´em for nothing, I don´t doubt."
"Don´t make ´em any less valuable."
Dorinda felt there should be an auction block, with her on it. Her tinge of amusement was dampened by her fear that should the negotiation fail he might punish her terribly for her part in it. She was burningly aware of his handcuffs upon her wrists. Under an impulse she could not control, she implored: "Give us to her, Mike. You stole us, you´ve used us. You wouldn´t loose....."
He surveyed her enigmatically. "You know you are going to be whipped to a fare-ye-well for this, don´t you?" he asked her somberly.
Dorinda buried to their bargaining. A repartee with a deadly serious undertone. When the final figure of her price and Terry´s price was agreed upon, it was so huge that she felt pitifully small beside it.
Knowledge of it left her with a fearful understanding of the value of a female body if it was young. How could any girl be safe with so great a price upon her sex?
She had changed owners. She was only a slave.
The tumult and the shouting dies.
The Captains and the kings depart....
Dorinda remembered Kipling´s "Recessional". Harriet´s Island was at peace. The day was done. Of all the guests, only Mike, she herself, Terry and Thalia remained. The rest had gone.
They sat now at dinner. Harriet enchanted and hearty. Mike pleased and sardonic. Thalia and Terry baffled. Dorinda unsure whether she was on her head or her heels. The girls wore their handcuffs as they might have worn an evening gown. There was upon the table an air as of tremendous events.... Harriet turned her attention to Thalia in benignunderstanding. "You don´t want to come here. Do you c***d?"
"Oh no, madam!" There was no doubt in the Arab girl´s response.
Harriet laughed, enjoying her privileges as hostess.
"Doesn´t his whip hurt you?" Her tone was sly.
"Indeed yes, madam. It hurts very much. I scream."
"But as long as he holds it: that´s what counts, eh?"
"What you getting at?" Mike asked good humouredly.
"He is my master," said Thalia demurely. "You must ask him."
"The girl´s in love with you, you big ox!" Harriet laughed immoderately.
"How the Hell did you manage that! You´re about as lovable as a water buffalo."
"Dammit, Harriet. That the best comparison you can make?"
"How about a saber tooth tiger?"
"My master is very strong," Thalia said.
"You´ve just about whipped the ass off her too, haven´t you! I can see the evidence," Harriet chortled. "Really these girls.....!"
"Does ´em good," Mike agreed with satisfaction. "You better lace into them two you´re getting. Dorinda ´specially." He guffawed coarsely, "She´s liable to start thinking about men. You wouldn´t want that."
"Dorinda is sweet," Thalia interjected. "She should not be whipped at all. At least not much." She added hastily.
"Holy cow! We´ve got more damn love affairs going than you can shake a stick at," Harriet proclaimed delightedly. "I wouldn´t have missed this for the world. How much for the Arab, Mike?"
"I am not for sale," said thalia, blushing.
"That´s for me to say, Honey," Mike reproved.
"I am sorry, master. Should I bend over?"
Harriet roared her enjoyment. "The damn girl´s got the hots so bad for you, it´s a shame to waste the lust. Why not give her six? There´s a cane on the sideboard."
Thalia did not wait. Docilely she rose and positioned herself where all could see. Her chained hands clutched her ankles. As though in a daze before so much concentrated femininity, Mike found the cane and implanted six ringing stripes upon the girls bottom offered for his attention.
"Thank you, master," Thalia rubbed her wealed posterior and looked adoringly upon the man who had striped her with the cane. She replaced the instrument of her punishment for him. Then both resumed their places at table, Thalia seating herself with a delicate sigh.
"You´re a lucky bastard, know that, Mike?" Harriet was impressed. "What the hell did you do to that girl to deserve it?"
"My master is very strong," said Thalia.
"He´s still a first-class S.O.B., honey."
"I do not mind. He is my master," said Thalia happily.
"Dammit, Harriet, I ain´t all that bad," Mike demurred.
"This charming girl has discerned depths we cannot see," Harriet frankly taunted him. "Such a jewel is rare. You should marry the c***d." "I been thinking about that."
The table froze. All motion stopped. The pin, had there been one, could have been heard to fall.
"Well, it ain´t the first time a man´s married a girl, is it?"
Mike looked round the startled faces belligerently.
"I am not even pregnant," said Thalia demurely.
Harriet was entranced. "Hell, this makes that damn garden party seem like a Salvation Army rally," she enthused. "I never thought I´d see the day." She focused on the prospective bride. "He´ll beat you, honey, you know that, don´t you?"
"He is my master."
"See," said a vindicated Mike. "She thinks I´m all right."
"The female mind is quite illogical," said Harriet happily.
"Thanks heavens I know how to deal with it." She turned to her new purchases. "I think I will cane you both soundly tomorrow to restore a proper perspective....." She looked at their bewildered faces sharply.
"You aren´t in love with the silly bastard too, are you?"
Their negative was in unison.
"That´s good then." She turned to Thalia. "You wouldn´t like me to give you a damn good hiding to knock some sense into your pretty head?"
"Oh no, madam. Thank you. My head is most clear."
"Humpf! A matter of opinion. I think you´ve got a hot snatch."
"You leave her snatch out of it," Mike suggested without heat.
"I´m sure you have plans for it," Harriet retorted tartly.
"What do you prefer? A church wedding?"
"That would be very nice," said Thalia. "We could have the Islamic one afterwards."
"Holy cow!" Mike looked concerned. "You mean I got to walk down two aisles in order to get up one cunt?"
When his bellows of self-admiration had subsided, Harriet reproved, "You are shockingly coarse. But it would make me happy to offer my home. Would you like to be married in this house?"
"Yes, please," said Thalia.
"That´s settled then! We can get the church chappie over from Naxos."
"Don´t I have nothing to say ´bout this?" Mike demanded.
"Nothing!" Harriet avowed firmly. "Weddings are for women. You can beat her afterwards. Are you going to lead her to the altar in handcuffs?"
"Yes, please," said Thalia.
Harriet turned an indulgent eye. "That´s twice you´ve said that, c***d. I´d go easy on it if I were you."
"A chain on her neck too," Mike said dourly.
"That would be very nice," Thalia agreed. Her eyes shone. Harriet swivelled to her recent purchases. "Sickens you, doesn´t it! Girls in love: pouf! They are a pain in the butt. You don´t know how lucky you are."
"Don´t k** yourselves," Mike warned. "It´s your little butts that´s going to get the pain. She swishes a mean cane. ´bout this time tomorrow you´ll be wishing you was back on the "Quest"."
"Sour g****s," Harriet declared. "Now, how´d you like to spend the evening?"
"I was thinking of locking the princess in the brig, so we´d be free for a bridge game." Mike´s eyes twinkled. The Arab girl was suddenly tense, her eyes upon her plate. She was very silent.
Their hostess chuckled. "You son of a bitch, you know her weak spot, don´t you?"
"I will go in the brig, if it pleases my master," said Thalia breathlessly.
Harriet shook her head in admiration. "Honey," she said tenderly, "you ever tire of this big lug, you come back to me. A cute can like yours is wasted on the heathen. The things I couldn´t do with you?"
Thalia just smiled.
Dorinda idly followed the curve of her inside thigh, over her knee and down her leg to where her ankle disappeared into the neat hole provided in the heavy wood. She twitched her toes. They were just visible above the plank. She did the same with her other leg. They were widely seperated. "Gets to be an awful bore after awhile," said the girl wit red hair.
Dorinda said she was sure it did.
"You can bet on something rotten when it´s the dungeon. I was an idiot to drop that vase and then cheek her. It´s not that I don´t know better."
"At least it doesn´t hurt," Dorinda consoled.
"Call me Scarlet. Everyone else does," the redhead said absently, "And don´t k** yourself about the hurting. Getting our anlkes clamped in these damn stocks is just the beginning. If our legs were stretched any wider our cunnys would be winking at each other. She´s a bit of a Bitch, y´know. We´re only about eight feet apart. We get a perfect view of each other´s quiff, and there´s not a damn thing we can do about it."
Dorinda admitted to the same reflection.
"I do envy you your bush. It´s gorgeous. I´ve always thought we redheads get cheated down there. I say, I´m awfully sorry you drew the short straw. I mean, you´re a new girl and all, and here you have to share what I get when you haven´t been bad. You must be really cheesed off!"
"It was a fair draw," Dorinda said cheerfully. "Besides, it´s in our contract. Maybe you can sit with me sometimes."
"We don´t always sit," said Scarlet darkly.
"It´s not so bad. They haven´t even tied our hands."
Scarlet gave her companion in distress a wry grin. "S´pose I shouldn´t tell you, darling. You know, ignorance is bliss. But I´ve had this before. They start you out thinking how lucky you are. You can sit this one out like a breeze. You look at your little tootsies stuck out in front and neatly nipped in the stocks. About the time the sight of the other girl´s quim gets to be more than you can bear and the two of you decide to use your finger, they show up and tie your hands behind your back. So now you grin at each other, shrug your shoulders and think, ´so what?´little clitty will have to wait and you´ll get a numb bum. Then, when you are sure you can´t bear it anymore, someone comes and hoists your bound hands up so high you know for sure your shoulders won´t take it. Then, later, when you´re sure you´re dying, you get a blindfold."
Scarlet pondered. "I really was an ass to talk back like that....."
"You really mean they´ll do all that to us?" Dorinda´s day was spoiled.
"´Fraid so, darling. If it isn´t that it will be something just as bad. A girl only gets in the dungeon if she´s really dirtied her diapers."
As always when confronted with some new rigor of her slave state, Dorinda´s thoughts turned to Mark. She was sure he would never punish her with the sort of distress now in prospect. She longed for Kyrexos. Here with Harriet they were closer to the beloved island. But to what avail! Since becoming one of Harriet´s girls Dorinda had quietly explored possible avenues of escape. There were none. In the process she had narrowly escaped penalties. Harriet would not countenance even the thought of escape in one of her possessions so totally owned.
Today was a bad day. But most were not. The girls got caned a lot. None escaped. They wore chains most of the time. But not always. It was a beautiful privileged place. Harriet loved them all. Dorinda could understand how easy it would be to accept and then love Harriet´s Island and those who dwelt thereon. She had Terry. Their owner acknowledged their love with approval. She did not sunder them save for punishments.
She wondered about being female. She had never previously been so aware of her sex as she had become as a slave. Thalia´s transformation was a never-ending source of speculation. Yet, had not her own behavior been much the same with Mark? She longed to immolate herself for him. That was femaleness: to be always aware of your lips as a source of joy to others. The whip made it all very real, and somehow orderly.
Dorinda explored further. "Suppose a girl is sincerely sorry for having offended, and really goes all out in asking pardon, does she get it?" Scarlet shook her head sadly. "No. She´s for the high jump regardless. We´ve most of us tried it both ways. There are two ways, y´know. One sincere the way you say. The other just trying it on. When Harriet knows a girl is sincere she may even shed a tear or two with her. But she gets the punishment just the same. I suppose, when you think of it, that´s the only way to handle an island of girls. Females are natural born twisters." Scarlet sighed. "I´m honestly sorry for what I said. Harriet knows I´m sorry. But it isn´t going to do either of us a particle of good..... I feel an absolute bitch about you."
Obediently, Dorinda leaned forward on her hard bench and crossed her wrists behind her back. Always when here hands were in the process of being bound thus she felt some psychic intimacy with the deft strong fingers that rendered her helpless. To hold still and offer her wrists and to feel the bands snugly circle and grow tighter and tighter was a thrill of submission she unfailingly recognized with a twinge of guilt.
She had been f***ed to admit to herself that to have her hands bound behind her back had become an erotically satisfying experience while the actual tying was being done. Afterwards it might be otherwise.....!
She tested, now, the tension and skill with which she had been tied. It was tight and competent. Her questing fingers could find no knot. She could not turn her wrists or seperate them. She was fastened! Having satisfied this instinctive need to test she relaxed, sat up and watched Scarlet making the same ineffectual struggle.
"Damn!" said the girl with red hair, "Now we´re going to start feeling sorry for ourselves. I say, Dorinda, are you any good at getting out of ties?"
"Not unless they are real sloppy," Dorinda confessed.
"Me either! Of course, I´m sure that´s the real reason they don´t use handcuffs all the time. handcuffs are much the simplest for them, and a girl never has a hope of getting out of them. But to be tied is tantalizing. You have hope. You feel quite sure that if you twist a bit more, or just get your fingers ´round the corner you´ll find the weak spot. You never do. But I´ve spent hours and hours trying. Gives a girl something to do at times like these, that and a pair of chafed wrists."
"I´m afraid I don´t struggle much after I´ve satisfied myself it´s hopeless," Dorinda confessed. "I´ve sort of recognized that I´m a bit of a natural slave."
"I suppose we all are here on the island," Scarlet admitted, giving her wrists a further exploratory twist. "But the dungeon affect us all differently. Outside I´m submissive as blazes. But put me in here, and all I want to do is get out of any cost. If I could wriggle my wrists free, and pull my ankles out of these stocks, I´d do it like a shot, even though I knew for sure it would get me into some really awful trouble."
"That´s the punishment. That´s why the dungeon. That´s why we are in it."
"S´pose so," Scarlet agreed unhappily. "Say, did Harriet cane you two the day after she bought you from Sandos? It´s a ritual she has."
Dorinda remembered it well. Neither she nor terry had taken the promise seriously when it had been made at the famous dinner. It had seemd good-natured banter. But the following day they discovered they had an appointment.
"Always take me seriously, darlings," Harriet adjured them as she zestfully swished the limber length to test its weight. Terry had been mischievously curious. Dorinda felt silly. Harriet´s predilection for the cane had about it a juvenile coloration in the context of a naughty little girl who should now take down her most intimate garment. To both girls the quality of the cane was a shock. It would hurt bitterly.
"A real zinger," Harriet enthused. "Let´s see your bottoms, girls."
How ridiculous to feel shame! After all they had suffered, to feel shame over a few strokes with a cane held by a woman. It was a tribute to Harriet´s understanding of the feminine psyche that both girls did feel shamed as they presented their derrieres for inspection. Both were very well striped.
"Perfectly gorgeous," Harriet exclaimed. "Six good stingers on top of what you have will be like the icing on the cake."
"We are really awfully sore already.....!" Terry offered tentatively.
"Yours will now be seven, love. Any more comments?"
There had been no more comments.
"Don´t suppose I have to tie you, darlings?"
Actually Dorinda would have preferred to be tied. She was still tender from the inflictions aboard the "Quest". She was uncertain how well she would behave. She wanted Harriet to like her. She didn´t want to disgrace herself this first time, but to ask to be bound seemed ostentatious. "We´ll try and be obedient, thank you," she said meekly.
"You first then. Darling, you´re really a beauty."
The slice shattered. Dorinda blindly fought for control into the second. It exploded. Every nerve cringed and twisted. There came a respite. Strong hands mounded her bent nudity with immodest competence. Her back was thrust down, her hips pulled up. The cheeks of her bottom more than ever vulnerable. "Truly exquisite," Harriet said with reverence, and struck the third time.....
When it came to Terry´s turn, Dorinda unashamedly caressed her stripes as she watched darling c***d positioned with the same loving care. Terry gasped as the firm pressures, the knowing thrusts. A hand which for a moment cupped her sex. Yet the six strokes and the one extra were no less severe upon the younger flesh. Dorinda winced in sympathy at each.
Ruefully Dorinda told of it now. Scarlet listened with amusement. "It´s a beautiful experience with Harriet," she reflected. "If only it didn´t hurt so much. I hold on like a little heroine up to the third or fourth, but then I usually make an awful ass of myself. Often I earn myself an extra. But every time I go to her to be caned I´m quite sure that now I´ll make a perfect score. But I never do....."
Her companion sounded so dolorous that Dorinda had to laugh. "I´ve wondered about this insistence on holding the pose," she said slowly. "It would be so lovely to just roll on the carpet and howl and rub the place. But I do have an awful suspicion that the discipline is good for us. I think that, finally, it helps us cope. We come face to face with ourselves and what`s going to happen to our bottoms."
"Dorinda?" Scarlet looked awkward. "I say, d´you mind me asking? Did you..... did you, get fucked a lot on that ship?"
"About every time we turned ´round-no pun intended," Dorinda admitte without embarrassment. "The crew enjoyed free use of us."
"Gosh!" Scarlet continued to look awkward. "Didn´t it..... I mean....?"
"It didn´t make us a damn bit different from what we were before, if that´s what you´re getting at." Dorinda said with certainly, "that ´soiled´ and violated bit is pure hogwash. We wished we didn´t have to. But when we lay down on our backs we mostly managed to think of something else so that we scarcely noticed.... We got quite good at it. Of course, once in awhile one of ´em would be in particulary good form. We always felt a bit guilty over those. But not for long. Terry doesn´t look soiled, does she?"
"Neither do you. I was just wondering...."
Scarlet was cut off. This time by the hoist. Dorinda was a little frightened now. Her crossed wrists were circled by the cord which was drawn painfully high so that she leaned further and further forward until this relief, too, was dnied by a backward pull which left her strained against her locked ankles and the cruelty of the cord. Both captives were whimpering for pity by the time the knot was tied. There was none. They were alone with their wrenched shoulders and gasping breaths.
"See, I told you...." Scarlet groaned. "Oh, I was a fool....!
The darkness followed soon after. As the blind was fitted upon her face Dorinda had to fight down the pleadings that rose to her lips. They demeaned. They did no good. They only embarrassed the girl who was doing her job.
This was punishment indeed! A strange unreal punishment: to suffer in the dark. Dorinda soon found herself floating in a sea of indigo that had no up or down, only steady unrelenting pain. She, too, whished Scarlet had not dropped the vase. What they referred to afterwards as ´the Great Hunt´ brought vividly home to the two girls the full depth of their captivity. They answered the summons and stood with all the rest of Harriet´s stable to be briefed.
"Silly little bitch. Thought she´d more sense." Harriet was perturbed. "Can´t find hide nor hair of her. Julie Ransome! Why the Hell she´d run away beats me. Anyway, spread out and search. Plenty of hiding places, dammit! Girl that finds her gets to use the cane. Hurry. I want results. If nobody finds her I´m liable to warm you all up behind," she chuckled.
"If the filly comes into view you can shout ´Tally Ho`."
It was fun! Dorinda determined to see it as no more than that. Secretly she hoped that Julie had escaped. If one girl got free a second might do it too. The thing would be to find out how. But she had little hope. By now the silly girl was probably scared and lay trembling behind a rock or bush.
It was a fruitless search until they saw the boat. A small fishing craft from another island, it drifted about a mile offshore. It had been less easy to observe the small head of the swimmer..... Julie was half way to her hope of rescue. Dorinda´s heart went out to the fugitive in a surge of pity. Someone had a signal gun. It´s blast echoed across Harriet´s kingdom and over the water. The girls gathered on a small hill to watch. Harriet arrived.
It was quite heartrending. The shot had been heard. A sail was hoisted, there was the chug of a distant motor. The fisherman headed for home. The slight swells were sufficient to enable the swimmer to witness her defeat. How bitter a moment it must have been! How bitter, now, to swim back to what awaited her!
Each watcher with her own vivid images in her mind, saw the flashing arms cease their ploughing of the sea. Saw the pathetic head bob for a long time before it turned and began it´s admission of defeat. Julie wasted no futile effort in striving to elude the girls and the woman who waited. It would have been useless. She would tire. Struggling through the surf and on to the beach, she paused for a moment to rid herself of surplus drops and to arrange her hair. Then, obviously braced, but with head high she walked over the sand to the woman whose property she was, and from whom ahe had tried to steal herself.
Dorinda was an aspen leaf, quivering in sympathy as she watched the small drama come to its heroic end. When the escapee and her owner confronted each other their eyes locked. There was no need of words. All that would now transpire was understood. Perhaps there was some communion between them as they stood, the cynosure of every eye. Then, defiantly, Julie turned her back and crossed her wrists. There came the click of handcuffs.
"Say hello to the pretty lady," the man who held my arm encouraged. His name was Myron. A big burly chunk I was a little afraid of. Dorinda looked down and shook her head dolefully as though offering sympathy for my plight. I could tell she was hurting badly. But she managed to say: "Don´t worry, darling. I´m O.K. Keep your chin up," before I was hustled on to the next shock. suppose I can add the words: as usual, when I say that Terry was entirely without clothes. She, too, I have only seen in the nude. For one awful moment when I caught sight of her I thought I was beholding her last minute alive. Her hands were tied behind her back. I have learned since that we girls are tied like that most of the time. It makes us quite helpless and causes our breasts to stick out nicely.
to be continued....