F Campbell - Drusilla

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bryce said evenly. “Don’t bother with any cute, wifely evasion. It’s still clear-cut.”

Drusilla sighed. She was angry with the obvious premise that the longer she wavered the more she must be examining Bryce’s demand. She constantly caught herself peeping at its possibilities. She no longer dismissed them out of hand. Unwillingly she accepted that what had been done to her so far had undeniably made her life more vivid and exciting. The carnal pleasures she at this moment was enjoying made previous adventures in bed seem tame.

“I could save you the trouble of deciding by keeping a lock on you all the time.” Bryce’s fingers gave no pause to her pleasure. “But I think you ought to have a more positive say in the deal, and anyway, it’s best we continue to go out and around. No reason our social life need suffer. But if we do it that way you’re going to have to constantly resubmit yourself. No balking.”

“Be a good little slave,” Drusilla’s voice was only faintly bitter.

“You’ll dramatize everything at the start. But we’ll fall into easy patterns.”

“But anytime I—balk; I pack my bag?”

“It’s the only way, ’Silla.”

“So we’re talking about my life? All of it?”

“The best life ever. Honey, push your hands up front.”

Absently, Drusilla obeyed. She made no pretense of shock when the handcuffs clicked tight upon her wrists. When the male hand resumed her pleasuring she raised herself on her elbows and examined the chrome bracelets by which her hands were joined. “Are these on me for life?” she inquired complaisantly.

“Just a trial run, sweets. How do you feel?”

“Funny. I bet they’d hurt if I tried to get them off.” She did not tell him she had seen them in the drawer. Idly, she asked: “Where on earth did you get them?”

“Bought ’em. Anyone can. Not just the cops.”

It was the first time! Sheepishly she felt curiosity and a strange excitement as she gently tugged at the confining link and fingered the gleaming steel.

“I’m handcuffed!”

It was like a discovery. An admission. Drusilla recalled Diana’s wish to see her thus.

“That’s right. You’re handcuffed.” Bryce’s voice was light but there were undertones. “Try and get them off. I’m told some girls can.”

“I can’t.” It was the certainty of acceptance.

“You look good in them.”

Drusilla s lips twisted in amusement. “They’re all I’m going to be allowed to wear, aren’t they! Wow, what a title for a book! ‘The Bride Wore Handcuffs.’”

“’Silla, you’ve fallen in love with them.”

“No, I haven’t. Don’t think that because I don’t go into hysterics at something you do to me I must necessarily like it. I’m trying to be reasonable.”

“Feeling your way?”

“Let me, please! Don’t go and whip me or something awful right off the bat.”

“Not until after our next fantastic, pet,” Bryce chuckled. “But I hope you realize you’ve earned something for allowing Diana to get at your derriere before me?”

“Couldn’t you sort of write that one off? It did give some benefits, y’know?”

“Not a chance! Matter of principle.”

Drusilla let it rest, but pursued a tangent. “Bryce dear, would you mind if Diana saw me like this? Handcuffed, I mean?”

He grinned. “She’d get a charge, eh?”

“So she says. You two would make a pair.”

“It’s you and I who’re the pair,” Bryce said soberly. “And don’t you forget it. You’ve been a bit absent-minded about it in the past.”

“Oh, Bryce!”

“You’re blushing. We can let that drop.” He grinned boyishly. “Tell you what: I’ll go all out for darling Diana. I’ll loan you to her. You’ll be delivered in handcuffs.”

“You needn’t go overboard.” Drusilla was remembering the cane. “I think all she wants to do is look.”

“Don’t you believe it. The poor girl’s starved for a morsel like you. Poor old Hinton leaves her high and dry.”

It was strangely comforting. Things fell into place. Drusilla made a mental note to pursue whatever knowledge Bryce and Diana may have shared. Maybe it was Diana... ? But her immediate concern was the handcuffs. She could not ignore the significance of them on her wrists. They were a symbol. Had Bryce craftily relieved her of decision!

“Darling, am I a prisoner?”

“Hmmmm.” His hand did not pause. “In a way.”

“You mean—it’s started?”

The hand ceased its ministration. Bryce’s voice was serious. “It’s started unless you ask me right now to unlock those handcuffs.”

“They’re on me as a sort of symbol?”

“Yes.”

“But, darling, I can’t ask you to take them off.” Drusilla’s voice was a wail. “If I do we go right back to square one.”

“That’s right.”

“You never help me when it comes to this,” she complained.

“I’ve given you all the help I can. Those handcuffs.” He was right. The steel bands answered most of her questions. Drusilla was tired of indecision. She was also very sure she did not want to pack a bag. Aloud, she mused:

“I’m weak, aren’t I? I mean, I really am one of those—what d’you call ’em: a submissive! I need to be herded.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Bryce, you and that word! And you’ve found out the same thing as I’ve found out.” She twisted to look up at him. “So, O.K., I want you to lend me to Diana. And even though I’m scared silly I want you to go on doing what you want with me. It’s been a turn-on—the whole thing. It’s been a turn-on even when I’ve hated it. If I burst into tears sometimes you’ll have to put up with it—I’m so damned lost...”

Bryce made love to her. Its beginning was tenderness. Its end was volcanic.

Drusilla wondered if it were the handcuffs.

“How’d you like to run over?” Drusilla asked demurely. Diana hugged the phone. “You’re up to something.”

“Can’t you pop over here?”

“No.”

“Oh ho, like that, eh?” Diana chuckled. “I bet you’re naked.”

“I have to be, Di’. It’s orders,” Drusilla giggled. “But I might manage panties and maybe a bra—just for you.”

“What, no corset?”

“No corset.” Another giggled. “Much worse.”

“Don’t tease, Dru’. What is it this time?”

“Handcuffs. ”

“You mean on you!”

“Yes. And they’re on tight. And I don’t have a key.”

“I’ll be right over,” said Diana.

In honest self-examination, Drusilla had come to accept that her own compliance was every bit as responsible for her new condition as was Bryce’s intransigence. She could not divine the degree of percipience by which he had correctly gauged the feminine submission latent in her psyche. At first she had been petulant at his baring of a facet of her being unknown to herself. But his probing had uncovered a rich vein of sensuality yielding unexpected discoveries. She lived from day to day. The price of termination was one she would not pay. Perhaps she would never pay it. The thought was spine-tingling.

Drusilla chose a pair of latex panties she had once purchased in a moment of mischief. They were just right for Diana’s visit. They moulded themselves upon her loins like a second skin, accentuating the obvious without blatancy. The handcuffs hindered the careful tuggings and smoothings to the point where she decided to leave her breasts bare. Joined hands would make a bra a chore.

“Oh, darling: Oh—oh—oh!”

Diana’s breathless exclamation was an excitement. Drusilla felt loved and very rich. She primped her hair so as to deliberately clink her handcuffs.

“Let me see! Let me hold them.”