“Not unless you ask for them. Diane. I had a girl once who did. She said she felt naked unless her hands were joined. Would you like the handcuffs?”
“No thanks, but I’ll let you lock them on me anytime you want. Taking me out is really nice, a treat I could certainly use. Thank you.”
Valerie laughed at me and told me I was entirely welcome, and promised to resist the temptation to tell me what she would do to me after she got me home. The way she said it left me wondering if we’d be looking at TV or I’d be tied up in a cell. I didn’t ask, I didn’t want to know.
Valerie’s personality had pretty well erased Uncle Andrew from my mind. The restaurant to Which she took me was gorgeous and reminded me of Donatelli’s, and that reminded me of Hugo. Amidst the glamour and noise and good wine, I was suddenly aware of having made two promises, one of which I could not possibly keep. In that sense, the restaurant was a mistake. Valerie should have kept me securely bound back in her penthouse. Once a girl starts thinking irrationally there’s no telling where it will lead. Andrew Everleigh’s hints about marrying me now seemed like nothing more than whimsy. But I had made him a promise and I couldn’t forget the huge amount of money he’d handed over not so long ago. But memory instantly took me back to Hugo, the broken bolt cutters, and a collar and chain for which only Uncle Andrew held the key. Belatedly I remembered my promise to Hugo to slip away at the first opportunity and join him in New York. I’d been so positive the opportunity would occur and I would simply walk out. But now, as I sat across from Valerie in the candlelight, I realized I held freedom in my hand. I could simply walk away and she couldn’t stop me. From that point I had to be concerned about Valerie Latimer and wondering if my pledge of obedience was actually a promise, a promise I’d be a bitch to break. I was suddenly confronted by promises in all directions.
“What’s bothering you, Diane,” Valerie asked shrewdly. “As if I didn’t know.”
“Freedom!” I admitted frankly. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“I thought we handled that back at the beginning. I want to watch you torn in two by indecision! The things I’m going to do to you tomorrow won’t hurt half as much as now.”
“I didn’t think I’d feel like this, Mistress - or may I call you Valerie in public?”
“While you belong to me, you’ve got two choices: don’t call me by any name or call me ‘Mistress’.” She bestowed the sweetest of smiles. “If you want to run away, now’s your chance. If you don’t want dinner, get up and go.”
Valerie’s magic brought me at least half way back to where I wanted to be. Of course I wanted dinner!
“I’m grateful for you bringing me here, but this place and everything around is so normal that it’s hard to believe you’re going to take me back to the penthouse and whip me.”
“You should be able to cope with it, Diane. Parole was a well established custom years ago. Captured soldiers often gave their parole in order to gain time or get a favor. I don’t suppose it was ever easy for any of them to go back and be a prisoner again. The same with you. I love it!”
I don’t know what triggered the act but suddenly I was on my feet and saying, “Goodbye, Valerie, and thank you for everything.”
I walked away. I think it was instinct, for I had no plan. But a phone call and I’d be safely on a plane, heading toward Hugo.
I used a side door and was running towards the glitter of the main street when I bag went over my head, handcuffs clicked behind my back, and I was tossed into the back seat of a waiting car like a bundle of merchandise. I suppose that’s what I was.
11
Lesbian Interlude
I hurt. I was spread tightly between two bedposts at the foot of Valerie’s bed. My captors stripped me bare and bound me thus under the direction of the woman I’d betrayed. My outstretched arms are secured by wrists alone, wrists that are tightly bound in soft bandages to let me know I’m intended to be suspended thus a long, long time. My feet are roped wide apart to leave me once again in the position of the “X” frame of bitter memory. But this is worse for my nakedness is without support other than my wrists. When Valerie goes to bed, we would be face to face.
Miss Valerie Latimer sat on the side of the bed and surveyed me with an amusement I did not share. “Silly girl!” she said quietly. “I suppose you know what to expect.”
I longed to be freed from the appalling fix but instead said quietly. “Yes. I’ll be terribly punished.”
“Well, that looks after that, you little idiot.” Her voice held hints of laughter. “If you’re curious as to why you got picked up so swiftly, it’s because I judged you by myself. In your shoes I would have run away just like you. A precaution seemed sensible. Welcome back!”
I could think of nothing worthwhile to say and kept silence.
Valerie was surveying my nakedness with every evidence of pleasure. “Hurting?”
“Horribly. My arms are being dragged from of their sockets.”
“No, they’re not. You just think they are. You’ll still be on one piece by morning.”
“If you leave me like this, I’ll be dead.”
My mistress laughs. “You overstate a bit, Diane dear. And a lovely sense of drama. May I assume you feel regret?”
“I feel a bitch, I let you down. I am guilty as hell, but please punish me some other way. I can’t endure this all night.”
“Poor darling! Everleigh tells me you have a gift for doing the wrong thing. He says you were a lousy lawyer and should be kept on a chain. I guess the old boy’s got you figured.”
At that moment I could have cared less about Uncle Andrew, all I wanted was to be untied. Helplessly, I asked, “Is this my punishment, or can I expect something worse? If there is anything worse.”
“Diane, my pet, you know perfectly well there’s something worse. Didn’t I promise you a whipping? Now it’s going to be doubly worse.”
Between guilt and pain and fear I ceased to be Diane Durrant or a lawyer of anything else other than a girl who’s spirit was utterly broken. I started to cry, and once the gates were open, my tears flowed with floods of misery. My mistress eyed me with interest until she kicked off her shoes, stood on the bed to dry my eyes and cheeks with an avid tongue as though their saltiness was good to taste. Soon her lips found mine and, in the loneliness of despair, I kissed her back as though with love.
“That’s better,” she said when we paused for breath. She patted my pussy in its blatant spread. “Want me to let you down?”
I tensed with longing, not believing what I’d heard. Urgently I surrendered, “Yes, oh yes! Valerie, I’d be so grateful!”
“I’m sure you would. But I’m still curious about obedience. Do you still have any?”
“Yes! I’ll give you the obedience I thought I owed to others.” I shook the hair out of my eyes with the only movement allowed me. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Valerie laughed and patted my cheek lovingly before stepping off the bed. I was tense and anxious with hope. But instead of reaching for my bonds, she started to undress. When she was as naked as I, she posed prettily to ask, “Like me?”
“Of course I like you, you’re beautiful. You’ve got a wonderful body. Please untie me.”
“It’s bed time, dear, no special occasions. By the way. I’ll be naked when I whip you, it gives me so much freedom.”
I watched as she turned off all light save the bedside lamp. She lay upon the covers and stretched erotically for my view. Her fingers played lightly along her body. At another time I might have been enthralled, but now was too engrossed with my pain to really pay attention. With a sob of despair, I allowed my head to bow forward. In bitter disappointment I blinked back another flood of tears.