“He’d probably turn you over to an underling. He might not even watch.”
“If he watched, it would be good enough. I’d pick up his vibes. But that’s not going to happen so let’s drop it. If you’re thinking I might let you have a go at me, forget it.”
I sipped in growing content. My flesh was heating by the intensity of Valerie’s regard as much as by the potent drink pouring down my throat. She approved of Uncle Andrew’s gift, an approval to send shivers up my spine in foreknowledge of pending pain. The voice of the Mistress was brisk.
“Are you schooled to submission, Diane, or do you struggle when you’re hurt? I don’t mind either way because I know a few tricks and can easily get the best of you in a fight. If you want to test this out, by my guest.”
I nodded, not much caring either way. “I’m not submissive but I play the role. Let’s say I’m obedient.” Hopefully I added, “I hate being whipped.”
“If that’s a hint, Diane, you can forget it. I’ll whip you as often as I wish and as hard as I please. Run back to Everleigh if you’re scared, it’s your last chance.”
I accepted a second drink, feeling pretty certain I’d need it. She continued warmly, “I’ve got three play room, we’ll have a look at them when you finish that drink. And I, suppose we might as well get started.” Valerie Latimer’s grin had a quality of friendship. “This need not be our last conversation, I enjoy a good talk with a girl I’m hurting. A bit of pain brings out all sorts of moments of truth.”
There was something tongue-in cheek about this whole thing. I could not be sure of Valerie Latimer and considered it would be wise to turn and run but the hold Andrew Everleigh had on me was a powerful force I could not deny. And there was curiosity that told me I should see what was going to happen, even if it meant getting hurt.
We both rose and I felt very conscious of my naked skin contrasting with Valerie’s very sleek dark blue velvet dress. I followed her to something I could feel sure I would not enjoy.
The big room was unexpectedly bright and bare, but in the center was a box-like affair upon two trestles, disturbingly like a coffin. “Just step up and sit down inside, Diane,” Valerie invited disarmingly. “You’ll find it doesn’t hurt a bit.”
Figuring I’d passed the point of no return, I obeyed. The box was a pretty piece of work with nothing cheap about it but from which I could get no idea of its purpose. I sat upright with feet extended which just about took up its entire length, the box itself raising above my hips. Valerie Latimer was smiling.
“I feel an absolute fool,” I admitted, feeling the need to say something. “This is something new.”
“Apart from whipping you, Diane, I will strive for innovations. Hold still while I fix a couple of things.”
The ‘couple of things’ proved to be my ankles. They were slightly raised and clamped to the sides of the box by a couple of ‘u’ bolts which slipped into small holes in the wooden side. There was a clicking as each slid in, much like the clicking of a pair of handcuffs. Quickly my feet were securely fastened to the side of the box.
Next my knees! Steel encircled each in the hollow above the knee itself, clamping them to the wood walls. It was a bit of an uncomfortable stretch as my thighs were forced apart to allow the knees to be secured touching the sides of the box. Evidently Valerie Latimer maintained an interest in keeping a woman’s private parts open and exposed. I couldn’t have gotten out of that damned box if I’d tried. She could have kept me as I was and held me safe enough. But a neatly shaped and fitted lid now slid smoothly in groves to cover my imprisoned limbs and loins, encircle my tummy and lock it tight back as though I were a woman sawed in half. This whole trick reminded me of that ancient hoax seen often on the stage. Next it was my hands, drawn down on either side against my hidden hips. Once more there were clamps. I was now held helpless by steel at ankles, knees and wrists, but the show was not yet over. A stout upright timber slid easily into sockets to press against my naked back. To this and joined by but a single link, was fastened a metal collar instantly snapped around my neck. Fingers rearranged my hair.
Mrs. Latimer stood back and I could not be sure if she was examining her handiwork or Me. “You look absolutely charming, dear,” she praised sincerely. “I expect you’re curious.”
“Of course I am. In case you’re interested, I can’t move anything that matters.”
“Of course not, Diane, helplessness is of the essence. Have you ever been kept immobile for any length of time?”
“I’m afraid not. Is that what happens now?”
“I’m going to leave you now for a little while so you’ll have a chance to adjust. You can picture all sorts of horrors still to come. You’re not hurting, are you?”
“No. Except for my knees which you’ve stretched unnaturally apart. I can’t call it pain.”
“I’d like you to struggle, if you don’t mind. See what you can shake loose.”
Struggling wasn’t any crazier than the rest of the whole damned thing. I gave it all I had but managed nothing except to move my elbows a bit and make the one link, to my collar laugh metallically. “It’s no use,” I admitted, “you’ve got me foxed.”
For once being alone wasn’t all that bad. For all I knew this could be what she considered punishment. And if I were left long enough, I suppose that is what is would become. In the meantime I tried to figure out her next move. I cringed at thought of my breasts now on display and beyond my ability to protect. My arms had been drawn back just enough to make my favorite twins shockingly available.
My new owner did not leave me long alone. When she returned she was carrying something I at first mistook for a kitten but which turned out to be an active and affectionate skunk.
“Don’t be alarmed, Percy’s been deodorized. I’ll just pop him inside the little trap door you didn’t notice at the far end. He makes wonderful company.”
My stomach tied itself in knots of apprehension as I felt the furry tail and snout begin its first explorations of my person. Its owner went to the adjoining room wherein she keep the instruments for a maidens discomfort to return with a chair into which she carelessly reclined. “I’m going to sit and watch your face, dear,” she explained. “You’ve been an absolute delight so far. The last girl I fixed the way you’re fixed had to be beaten into submission. I want to see how you make out with Percy. If you feel strongly on the subject, I could exchange him for a few mice? Or a pet rat? Don’t bother to thank me.”
I gave no thanks, scarcely hearing her mockery. I could imagine the small wild thing with which I shared the box slowly exploring closer and closer to my private places. I also was speculating wildly on what he might do when he got there. Girls fear mice because of a silly notion they may get up inside us. But Percy was too big for such a notion, but had claws and a snout and a tongue, I suspected he had been used thus before because he took his time sniffing my legs and thighs on his way up. Realizing my features mirrored my thoughts, I gasped protestingly, “This isn’t punishment, it’s just plain horrible. Please, Valerie, get that thing out from between my legs.”
“You will address me as ‘Mistress’.”
“Please, Mistress, get that little beast out from between my legs. Please, please, please!”
“Don’t be silly, he likes it in there. Think of it, he’s got a lovely warm girl to himself.”
“Valerie ... I mean, Mistress, I’m frighten! He’ll eat me alive.”
“Struggle, dear, I love to watch you do that.”
For a while I forgot about Valerie as I concentrated against an enemy I could not see. I didn’t struggle because I’d been told, my struggles were terribly real but ineffectual. I was so damned helpless, the clamps and collar held me almost motionless. But in my struggles my breasts jiggled in a manner that I didn’t like but I’m sure was an interesting show.