It was as far as she got. Hugo neatly sidestepped her kick and grasped her ankle to leave her hopping on one foot in defeat. To keep herself from falling, Margo hopped back against the bars, which she clutched with outstretched arms. She glared angrily and demanded. “Let go of my foot! Don’t stand there holding it like a dummy!”
“Nice way to keep you under control, sweetheart.”
It must have been one insult too many. Thrusting herself from the bars, Margo actually managed to jerk her foot free and head for the stairs. She got only four paces before her hair was once more in a strong male hand and she was cruelly jerked back to the spot where Hugo intended her to spend our dinner time. He demanded, “Tie her waist back to the bars, Diane, she’s a handful.”
Feeling a bitch, I did as I was told. Margo was amusing and whether her fight was real or make believe, it provided entertainment. I slipped several bands of rope around her narrow waist and the bars behind and cinched it very tight indeed before stepping back to watch the rest of Margo’s bondage. Girl smell was heavy in the air. And I was pretty sure that if I tested Margo’s private place, I would find it juicy and ready. While our captive tugged vainly at my ropes now holding her, Hugo tied her feet in similar fashion to inhibit the kicks which were now Margo’s only weapon. I was surprised how he took the trouble to tie them far apart to obtain the maximum exposure of the struggling girl. It was easy for him now to noose a wrist and drag it out and up to be tied against a waiting bar, and to have it’s twin similarly bound in stretched helplessness on the other side. Margo was now a lovely naked butterfly, secured against the bars of her cell, breasts heaving and her skin wet with sweat.
Hugo and I watched our captive’s struggles in pure rapture. The poor girl couldn’t move much at all, but did her best while muttering savage curses and protests in our direction.
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Hugo asked pleasantly.
“I wanted to go and dine with you.” Margo appeared to have a one track mind. “You could have tied me up when we came home if that what you wanted to do. And if I didn’t decide to pack the whole thing up and walk away. I think you’re being terribly mean.”
It was a beautiful job and Margo soon stopped struggling.
Satisfied at her helplessness, Hugo examined each one of her bonds, tightening where ever possible before producing the hated gag and a short length of chain. “You don’t dare put that damned thing in my mouth,” Margo said heatedly. “I could scream my head off down here and no one would hear. I don’t want to be gagged!”
“That’s why you will be.” Hugo held up to view the leather and steel punishment. “Open that pretty mouth.”
Poor Margo, I knew how she felt! But after initial resistance, she accepted the inevitable and allowed her mouth to be filled with the hateful wad and her lips sealed. The strap was unkindly tight around her head. It should have been enough but Hugo was taking no chances as he circled a bar with the short length of chain to gather the end links within the grasp of a truly awful padlock which was used also to seal and secure the straps of Margo’s gag. “You can’t trust a girl,” Hugo said cheerfully. If she gets the rest of herself loose, she won’t be able to do a thing about that. Rather neat, don’t you think?”
The last I saw of Margo before we went away was a tear slowly making its way down one lovely cheek. If that tear came from hurt feelings or the defeat of tight bondage, I was not to know.
That night my only bond in bed was the collar and chain, Hugo being nice enough to explain that he had something else in mind that required my hands not be tied. He then inflicted a night of pure frustration upon a young woman who was getting everything she was asking for, her hands being tight joined by thumb cuffs and her big toes similarly locked. Hugo thoughtfully looped a length of chain between my legs and locked each end to a side of the bed to leave me the freedom of floundering around as much as I pleased. But I could go nowhere. Never had I been held by so little steel.
As I lay there in my minimal but very secure steel cuffs, I had to give a thought to poor Margo downstairs in her cell, still bound and gagged. She must certainly be getting used to that gag. And I wondered, as Hugo spread my legs and entered me, if Margo was jealous over what she knew was going on in our bed while she spent a lonely night.
As owner of two female slaves, Hugo proved impartial. For Margo, her second day of captivity was pretty much a mystery but the tone of his voice as he told me I was to be whipped left no doubt that I was to be used as a demonstration for Margo’s benefit, but also, as Hugo insistently hinted, to hurry me up in getting results on my master’s claim. I couldn’t relax and enjoy it but did my best simply to relax.
Two naked girls with arms wide apart above their heads, their wrists strapped tight! I am sure we made a pretty picture of feminine helplessness and acute anxiety. A girl never really gives up hope of escaping a whipping until the first stroke burns across her skin. The fastening of Margo in the same manner as myself had caused our master a good deal of trouble and his slave a good deal of discomfort in the jerking of her hair. The threats of what would happen if she failed to stand still helped.
“I’m going to whip Diane first so you can get the hang of it, Margo, and see how she behaves,” Hugo explained helpfully. “I do hope you girls get something out of this. I know it keeps Diane on the ball in the work she performs for me. And for you, Margo, it’s the start of an education. There is a belief that after a whipping has been done to a girl, she’s never the same again. I’ll be glad of your opinion.” He chuckled gleefully. “You have to stand there for now, not knowing when the whipping will start. That’s part of the suspense. And the punishment. It gives you a chance to chat. I should gag you but I won’t. You did spend the night gagged, you remember?”
He left without waiting for an answer from Margo. This was old hat for me but for Margo it was discovery. She was still panting from the struggle. She voiced her puzzlement, “I still don’t understand why you do this, Diane, the allowing him to make you prisoner every other day and punishing you so.”
“No crazier than you, darling. You wanted what you’re about to get, so stop worrying. Relax and enjoy.”
“That’s not funny. If I could walk out of here right now, I would. Is he serious about it? I mean, does it hurt real bad?”
“He’s serious, and it hurts terribly.”
“Well, don’t sound so damned smug about it. I’m glad you’re being whipped, too, Diane. If you can stand it, I suppose I can.”
“You think you’re going to die but you never do. Honestly, Margo, is this what you wanted?”
“I suppose it goes along with what I wanted,” Margo conceded.
“When I used to dream about it, it was always of ropes and chains and iron bars and things. I never dreamed of being whipped, but I can understand how it sort of fits.”
Margo was obviously doing some thinking. “I’ll admit that the way he tied me to those bars last night thrilled me to bits. I hated being left behind when you went to dinner. And when you two were having all the fun in bed. But that sort of added a spice while I was left alone. I spent many hours trying to get loose but I never did. But I’ll also admit to an indecent sort of thrill in having my pussy so exposed. Gosh, I’d never have believed!”
“Does being fastened the way we are now hit you the same way?”
“Sort of ... But it’s overshadowed by knowing what’s going to happen. I mean the whip. I’m scared.” There came an awkward pause. “Diane, dear, do you get all juicy at times like this? I’m being positively indecent.”
“Oh, sure. It’s part of being female. I was ashamed of it myself at first but now I don’t even think of it. If a girl was really frigid, I suspect she could be cured by having someone fasten her the way we are and giving her a good whipping.”