It was more than fair but I had to ask, “What about my apartment?”
“Keep it. Make sure the rent is paid.” Hugo say the uncertainty on my face. “I’m giving you a day’s freedom,” he said jauntily. “We have to look after business and I can’t send you to your office chained or with your hands tied behind your back.” He gazed at me searchingly and held my arms to emphasis his point. “This freedom changes nothing, I’ll still expect the obedience you promised before I cut you down from that tree.”
“I will do as I promised. Hugo, I really am grateful. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be chained somewhere on Naomi’s island. I’ll be a good girl for you, and a good lawyer, too”
We went our separate ways. It was a joyous day of fresh discovery, of a realization of possessions and of purpose. I paid accumulated bills and disposed of phone calls. I knew business would be pending but forget to ask Hugo’s wishes. Yet I knew I would come by a better understanding of my new condition by the time we had finished dinner in the evening. I constantly spread my arms out wide in joy that they were not joined. The shinning, heavy bracelet on my left wrist was a reminder, but that was all. It was a normal and very happy day, and New York embraced me lovingly. I completely forgot Uncle Andrew’s promise to have me kidnapped.
I had to wonder if Hugo was rich enough to afford Donatelli’s but was grateful for being thus wined and dined. I was positively seething with feminine curiosity and thrill Hugo and I had reached a sufficient rapport to excuse me being female. I broke in on his lectures about the stock market. “Never mind the market, Hugo, but, for Heaven’s sake, tell me what you’re going to do to me. The suspense is killing me.”
It must be wonderful to be a male and have total ownership of a girl. Hugo oozed total power in a way to make me cringe. “Tomorrow you belong to me, you sweetheart,” he affirmed grandly. “But I guess you knew this, or guessed it. There are those vows you made.”
“For instance?”
“I’m going to take you downstairs, tie you, and cane your bottom. There’s also a nice riding crop I’ll try on you. Why not try the lobster bisque?”
I ordered the lobster bisque. I also wondered if I’d gain anything by having Hugo whip my bottom as opposed to Naomi whipping my back. I decided I had to be a bit ahead and then made myself feel a lot better by looking around Donatelli’s and comparing it to being collared and chained in Naomi’s little hut. Holy cow!
“I’m becoming quite fond of you,” Hugo confessed, offhandedly.
“You’re quite good in bed, and I do have to admire the way you adjust from hard authority to soft obedience. As a slavegirl you’ll make an interesting study. Looking forward to the crop?”
“No, I’m not. I won’t ever pretend I like being whipped or that I’m not scared of it. I don’t care if It’s a cane or a crop or some leather thonged horror, I abhor them all. Now you’ve explained what I can expect in the morning, could we please go on to some other topic?”
“You’ll spend the day in bondage.” I took a deep breath but bondage might not hurt.
Hating to spoil our dinner. I inquired no more. Hugo was in a reflective mood. “You really did introduce me to a strange new world,” he confided warmly. “I mean, take us right now. Look around the restaurant and who is there who could perceive the relationship we share. If you told anyone of them that tomorrow you’d get your bottom caned, they’d suppose that either you were vulgar, or they might want your phone number. Our waiter has taken note of your bracelet.”
I did not care who saw my handcuffs. They were the only part left of the girl I loved. I’d made up my mind to go alone with Hugo with everything he wanted. He was a client who had a lot of money and a justifiable claim. If he gave me enough freedom. I could re-establish my law practice. Perhaps he would only demand my surrender on alternate days. On those days I would be his prisoner and I would do as he told me. I had a wry memory of him promising to whip me everyday until I made some progress with his case in court. I wondered what the judge would say if he knew I had a striped bottom that burned every time I sat down. I would not be bored.
I wondered about that crop.
6
The Flaming Flesh
I actually ate breakfast. Everything was so different from being chained in the hut on Plessious. Hugo and I had made love repeatedly through half the night, then slept late and found other things to talk about over coffee, quite apart from the pain I was about to suffer. Since it was understood between us that I was Hugo’s slave for the day, I listened respectfully to his male superiority. Today I was a nothing and had better damned well like it.
“I want you to address me as “Master,” Hugo said first off. “That establishes our relationship and tells us both where we’re at. What you say we alternate the days. Right now you belong to me but tomorrow you’ll be a lawyer and as free as the air. Okay?”
“Okay by me ... Master.”
“I really mean that, Diane, about whipping you should you fail to make any progress on my case. I don’t think you were really trying up to now.”
“Very well, Master. I expect you’re right. I won’t complain about being whipped or caned should I fail to produce results.” I found it hard to believe what I was saying.
“What I have here is a small conceit all my own,” Hugo said proudly. He produced an expensive looking box. “Only the judge uses them in the good old USA, but if we were in England or Canada you’d have to wear them every time you entered the court room. You’re free and naked and I want you to put this on.”
It was a Barristers Gown in the best tradition. I could tell it was expensive. When I clasped it at my neck, it enveloped my nakedness like a tent. Hugo, walking around and around to get the effect, seemed pleased. I consoled myself with the thought that at least I was covered up.
It’s amazing how many houses have a downstairs. Hugo’s downstairs provided a room expressly designed for the unhappiness of girls. It took him only a very little time to have me fastened in the manner in which he had found me on Plessious, my wrists tied high and far apart. He walked around a few more times before producing a safety pin and raising the back hem of the gown I wore to uncover my bottom but stop short at my waist. The safety pin to secure the gown so raised. I saw his point. Here was a contrast I could not fail to feel!
“Nice idea, don’t you think?” he inquired. “Yes. Master. It’s making me shiver.”
“I was wondering whether to bother with the cane, it’s a juvenile sort of instrument. This crop is the whippiest thing I’ve ever seen. Have you a preference?”
“The cane, please. Master.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want. I’m not sure you’re making a good choice but you’ll have plenty of opportunities to form an opinion. I thought twenty strokes would be about right for this first day?”
“It seems a lot. Master.”
“I suppose it is. But, Diane dear, you do have to realize this is the beginning of a new association. The only reason I’m caning you is to get you into a proper frame of mind to reinforce your vows made when you wanted me to cut you down. Get the idea?”
I got the idea, all right, but I’d be damned if I had an answer to it.
I could even see a certain logic in what he proposed. But when I thought of it, I had little doubt that when my bottom had been caned twenty times. I’d see our new relationship in the way Hugo wished. I was about to be conditioned.
“I have you very prettily fixed up, Diane, and I want to leave you a little while to sort of let things sink in. Get what I mean?”
“Yes, I get what you mean. But, Hugo, I wish you’d whip me and get it over with. This standing and waiting is the very devil. And I won’t pretend I’m all that brave. Please...?”
But Hugo was gone. My master had things beautifully figured.