“Until it happens. Hugo, I really don’t know. I know what it’s like for a few hours or a day, but you and I are now talking long term. In a way, we’re planing a marriage.”
“You want me to marry you, I will?”
“No. Hugo, don’t be silly. Getting married would spoil the whole thing. Wait a while. If I get bored with the things you do to me. I’ll tell you fast enough. But it should be understood that won’t mean you have to stop. If it happens, it’s a problem I’ll have to cope with myself.”
It was delightfully intimate sitting there over breakfast. I made as much play as I could with the golden handcuffs on my wrists and knew the costly circlets were getting us both excited.
Hugo had a problem he had to voice. I had come to know him pretty well, and when Hugo had something on his mind. I could sense disquiet. I sensed it now.
“I’ve been thinking about Margo and old Andrew Everleigh.” he admitted. “I should never have allowed him to take her away, any more than I could let him grab you. I let him jump to a false conclusion.”
“But, damn it. Hugo. I’ve never seen the girl happier. Why worry about her?”
“Uncle Andrew thinks he’s got himself a delightful nymphet who will glow and twinkle and wiggle in his ropes. And he has. But I discovered something else about Margo he probably won’t like. Whenever she gets her hands and feet free, she puts up the damnedest battle to escape. It’s for real and she almost has to be beaten into submission. You and I know that’s what she wants, but Uncle Andrew doesn’t and that’s what bothers me.”
“Don’t worry, Hugo. Constance can deal with her. She dealt with me without any trouble.”
“Margo wants it done by a man. She doesn’t want a mistress, she wants a master. You know that. What’s going to happen is the two of them will be at cross purposes. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he brought her back and wanted you instead. It’s you he’s always wanted.”
“Hugo, stop worrying.” I raised my hands and clinked golden bracelets. “You’ve got me and we’re going to have ourselves a wonderful time. Damn it. Hugo. I’ve made you a millionaire, so stop worrying about a girl who doesn’t know what she wants”
Hugo brightened up, got himself another cup of coffee, and then started off in another direction. “It’s damned rummy, Diane, the way you and I have started off in this business of ropes and whips and chains. Not too long ago neither of us had heard of such things. And we would have scorned them. But everything thats been happening to us has gradually made us addicts.”
“I like it. Stop worrying the same way I’ve stopped worrying. Let’s talk about buying me a pillory and a set of stocks, and when I’ll get whipped again. Real fun things!” I sparkled at my master imploringly.
We tossed worry to the wind and became a very happy couple. But Hugo had planted a seed of unease in my mind. I was scarcely conscious of it then but it was to grow and flourish. I wore the golden handcuffs all that day.
9
Prisoner of San Jancith
It is hot in the slave pen. During mid day I seek refuge in a tiny bit of shade afforded by one concrete wall. There is the strangest smell about the place but since I perspire almost constantly, I am wondering if it is not a relic from the days when fifty chained woman might be locked in this enclosure, and I can well imagine what the smell was like then. Like Uncle Andrew said, this whole place is a relic of ancient times.
If I had my hands I could probably climb out of this enclosure but I do not have my hands. I don’t even have those lovely golden handcuffs, but instead my hands are tight bound with some kind of rawhide strip and I’ve chaffed my wrists almost rare with my futile twisting and tuggings. But what the hell, there’s nothing else to do!
The walls of this enclosure are part concrete, part stone, and a lot of stout timbers spaced enough apart to give no chance of wiggling through. There is also a latticework of rusted iron and an iron-barred gate with a fresh, shinning new large lock. I am a prisoner for sure.
The name of my female jailer is Juanita, she is stronger than I and can handle me easily. Constance doesn’t bother much, I think she is ashamed of seeing me in this condition. There is also a grinning and amiable black man who will rivet heavy irons upon my limbs when the time comes. I am given to understand there will be a sequence of ordeals such as the one I endure now. No one will tell me what the end of it may be.
Needless to say, I am naked. It’s a blessing I have been naked as much as I have for the sun would burn to a crisp any girl who’s skin was freshly stripped of covering. The name of Uncle Andrew’s tiny island is San Jancith. There are other similar little rocks sticking out of the water, but here on this bit of rock, he owns he has all the privacy he wants. I don’t have a hope.
I haven’t even seen Uncle Andrew this trip. After issuing the order by which I am now his captive, he went about his affairs and left Constance to do his dirty work. I think I have been cheated and swindled, but until I can talk to Uncle Andrew I can’t be sure. Constance says the least I know, the better.
Even this enclosure is better then the dungeon I was briefly shown, I think they wanted it to be a warning, along with the pile of rusty chains which would have held an elephant. At least here there is open air and I can see though the various slots what goes on outside, and sometimes Jacob passing on his errands. Sometimes he even says a few cheerful words. Juanita is cheerful enough, but she goes around naked to reveal her magnificent curves and wears a belt from which dangles a wicked looking quirt.
This whole thing stinks and I have to feel bitter and betrayed as I seek a bit of shade and press bound arms against stone. The walls are at least seven feet high and I look at them in longing and in a fury of anger that I cannot free my hands. Juanita must have faith in her knots, which I suspect are wired, since my wrists are the only restrains she has imposed. But even if I could climb the wall, I’d still be on an island, and I’d probably be given a very bad time for trying to escape. I’m up the creek for sure!
When I sit in the hot shade at noon, I think back to how this all happened. It repeats over and over in my mind in disbelief at the defeat right on that first day when Margo walked back into my office after a five day absence The poor girl had proved unworthy of Uncle Andrew’s chains and was thus sent home in disgrace. Her first question was if she could go back to Hugo Markham and be his slave forever. There was a letter from Uncle Andrew but Margo knew the terms anyway and was all too willing to provide graphic descriptions on request. The letter was simple and direct. If I didn’t immediately get on a plane and go to San Jancith, I would be kidnapped within twenty-four hours and would make the journey strapped within a stout wooden box. Poor Margo was frightened of the man. I wrote a brief, heart-broken message to Hugo and went straight to the airport. If I was chicken, then okay, I was chicken!
I had never been to Hemingway’s ‘Island in the Gulf’ and would have been thrilled to death had I not been going to my imprisonment. I had Margo’s fervid assurances of kindly treatment with maybe a week or two’s captivity and one real, honest-to-goodness whipping before being sent back home. I think she believed this but I did not, so I’ve only myself to blame for being naked in a slave pen with my hands tied behind my back. Oh, shit!
I think of Hugo a lot and feel I’ve let him down. Hugo would want to fight Uncle Andrew but I know better. My meek surrender to his ultimatum wasn’t being weak, it was simply a choice between going in a box and making the journey comfortably in a first class cabin, the ticket for which he had thoughtfully included with the letter. The ticket was for one way.
It was a let down finding Uncle Andrew gone but Constance was kind. “I’m afraid he wants you as a prisoner, dear,” she explained with seeming regret. “There’s no use telling you to go back home before you get fixed so you can’t go anywhere. This is an island and you’re here to stay. I hate the things you’ll have to put up with and it’s Juanita and Jacob who will follow their orders and make your life uncomfortable. But they’re an amiable couple and won’t hurt you beyond whatever instructions Mr. Everleigh has left with them. You’re a most courageous girl. If I’d been in your place, I would never had come here willingly.” She shrugged. “But you are here so that’s the end of it. Mr. Everleigh has left a program of punishments I’m afraid you’ll have to endure until he comes again.” She suddenly clasped me to her and kissed me warmly as though I was a relative going far away. “I hate the things Juanita has to do to you but there’s nothing I can do about any of them. Forgive me if I don’t see you too often.”