F Campbell - Drusilla

“What is it, Di’? What’s happened?”

“There was a pile up—on the bridge. A truck smashed the car through the rail. They’ve recovered the bodies—”

Death is not like the whip. Its impact grows with the hours. Drusilla was numb. Driven by urgency. Men would soon be knocking at the door. The phone would ring. She must be ready—she was naked!

The sudden shocking realization struck her like a blow.

Frantically she dialed Diana’s number.

“Yes?” Diana sounded tired. And then: “Oh, darling, it’s you! What’s the matter?”

“I’m handcuffed.”

“Good God!”

“And I don’t have a key—and I’m naked!”

Diana’s laughter was hysterical, a recognition of farce.

When she got it under control her voice was decisive. “We’d best be together; the way it’s happened. Do what you can while I’m getting there. I know a store... I never had the nerve... ! I’ll buy handcuffs... there’ll be keys... ”

Thankfully, Drusilla replaced the receiver. Ruefully, she looked at her handcuffed wrists and at her clothes. She reached for panties...

The phone rang stridently.

There was no beginning. It was preordained. Both women accepted it without debate. A force like gravity. Ginny’s laughing acceptance was the wisdom of Eve.

Time heals. They let it work its magic.

“We may as well live together,” said Diana the practical.

“No sense keeping two homes. We’re neither of us going to be exactly rich.”

“Your house,” said Drusilla. “It’s the nicest.”

“That the only reason?”

They could always be direct with each other. It made things easy. “You and Hinton were just—sort of marking time,” Drusilla said slowly. “I loved Bryce—terribly. He’s still there.”

Diana nodded. “Best for Ginny, too. No move.” She grinned. “But aren’t you forgetting... ?”

“The room!” Drusilla had not forgotten. “No! That’s his too. I don’t want to be—to be—put in there.” She leaned forward and kissed her pensive companion. “Selling my place gives us lots of money. Build a new room just the way you want.”

“You’d better have yours dismantled before you call the realtor. I’d love to see his face... !”

They employed the same contractor to do both jobs.

Diana dealt firmly with his hesitations and curiosities. Material salvaged from one was used on the other, particularly the bars and gratings. Since the project had been dumped into her lap, Diana insisted that Drusilla should see none of it until after completion. Then there would come a day... ! Only one of Drusilla’s demands was listened to: that there be daylight. She wanted no captivity beneath the glare of neon. The thud of hammers and the rasp of saws imparted to her a suspenseful and quivering anticipation.

Thus the practicalities.

Quaintly, Drusilla was not the Room’s first victim. “There’s no use sitting out a period or setting a date.”

Diana sipped her after-dinner coffee and gazed with approval upon a sleek Drusilla. “We didn’t wear black. No one does anymore. What’s bothering us is a—well—a sort of feeling of infidelity.”

Drusilla nodded. “We need an icebreaker.”

“I suppose we could get drunk,” Diana mused cheerfully. “But we don’t want to approach it like that. One of our troubles is a fear of anticlimax... But I’m ravenous for you. I want to talk about our pussies and the cane and the handcuffs... ”

“I’ve been going easy on account of Ginny.”

“Ginny’s no problem. The darling’s an asset, not a liability. She’s recovered from the funeral. After all, it’s over a month... !”

“Darling, I’ve left it to you. I’m really a novice.”

“With those marks you had. on your back! You’ve still got a few... ! That’s initiation enough.”

“Yes. But you know—well, you know what I am.”

“You’re a gorgeous submissive.”

“I’ll accept the role,” Drusilla agreed demurely. “But that leaves the ball always in your court.”

“That’s O.K. for now,” Diana glowed. “I’m a gourmet and you’re exquisitely edible. Go upstairs and strip. Let’s get back where we were.”

Drusilla was half out of her chair when she remembered.

“What about Ginny?”

Diana laughed delightedly. “Ginny’s downstairs.”

“You mean—the Room?”

“The Room, Dru’. Hurry.”

Drusilla leaped for the stairs.

It felt so good. It was reality. Drusilla examined her nakedness in the mirror and found it good. She guessed what awaited her. When she approached the waiting Diana she sank gracefully to her knees, head bowed. “From now on I’m going to call you Mistress,” she said softly. “I want to. I’ve always wanted to.”

“Hold our your hands, witch.”

The handcuffs slipped on to the eager wrists. It was a coming home. The clicks were music as the steel tightened. “Don’t ever let me loose, Di’. Not ever.”

“Silly. I’ll want to take you around sometimes and show you off. Come along now.”

A nude Ginny was pressed against the bars of the cell.

Her face lit up at sight of visitors. “Oh, Mumsie, you’ve left me here the longest time. Hello, Mrs. Hammill, isn’t this place a gas?”

The child was enchanting. As unselfconscious as a statue. Her acceptance of Drusilla’s condition was without affectation.

“Why are her hands behind her back, Di’?”

Ginny answered the query by turning round and wiggling a pair of handcuffed hands. “It’s so I can’t play with myself, Mrs. Hammill,” she said brightly. “Isn’t Mummy mean?”

“That’s one of the reasons,” Diana admitted. “But she needs restraint. She’s altogether too exuberant.”

“Don’t ever get put in this cell, Mrs. Hammill,” Ginny advised without visible dolour. “It’s awful. You can walk around and sit down and stand up but you can’t go anywhere. I’m frustrated to death. There’s absolutely nothing to do. I’ve been locked in here for ages and ages.”

“Six hours, poppet.”

“Well, it seems like ages. Please, Mummy, can I come out now?”

Without answering, Diana unlocked the door. Without knowing quite how it happened, Drusilla found herself inside with Ginny while the door clanged shut behind her back. The turning of the key was a thunderclap. When she swung round in laughing protest, Diana had gone.

“You should never trust Mummy, Mrs. Hammill,” Ginny advised sagely. “But I expect you wanted to be handcuffed?”

“You’re here, Ginny. It’s not as bad as being alone.”

“Well, no. And you’re here, too. That makes two of us.

I’m so glad. I was getting awful lonely.” Ginny was a girl who always saw the bright side. “But are you sure you want to be locked up?”

“I didn’t have much to say about it, did I?”

“That’s because you let yourself be handcuffed. Did you take your clothes off yourself, Mrs. Hammill?”

“I’m afraid I’m guilty on both counts, dear.”

“You don’t have to blush, not with me, Mrs. Hammill. I know how lovely handcuffs are, and being tied, and being naked... Mostly I only get to wear clothes when I go out or there’s company.” .

Drusilla had come to adore the radiant child whose life was now interlocked with her own. She cupped the happy face between her linked hands and kissed the full red lips again and again. “Don’t call me Mrs. Hammill anymore, Ginny. You know my name. Use it any way you please.”

“Oh, may I?” Ginny was delighted. “May I call you Drew? Like it was spelt with four letters?”

“Of course,” Drusilla laughed and looked ruefully at the bars. “We’re two girls together, aren’t We?”