F Campbell - Golden Wrists

Poor, dear girl. She had to digest everything I said before answering. I knew she wanted her arms lowered but was now prudent enough not to order me to do that. She shifted her feet and sought some comfort from a position that gave very little. I knew I should feel an absolute bitch but was coming by the conviction that what I was doing to this spoilt teenager was the best possible treatment. Already she had come a little way down from her high horse, but the tone still had hints of haughtiness in it. “How about letting my arms down? And will you put me back in that cage with the rest of them?” She made it sound like a fate worse than death.

“If you prefer isolation. I can lock you in this cell and leave you alone. And I do mean alone! Would you like that?”

“It’s a horrible idea. I hate it!”

“But you could do as you like, no one to bother you.”

“That’s what they call being put in solitary, it’s a punishment. Thank you. I’ll go back to the cage.”

“That’s not for you to say, dear. We have this lovely cell for you, and further down there’s a lovely dungeon with some lovely heavy chains. Just think, you could sleep the whole day through!”

“I don’t want to sleep the whole day through. I’m sorry, Miss Durrant, that I was impertinent. I’m going to try and be more the way you want. Please don’t punish me anymore.”

“I’ve been thinking it would be nice if you asked me to give you six more with the cane - just to show good faith.”

Victoria stood still and stopped struggling. She seemed to be trying to consider the impossible. Her voice was meek, “That’s just to humiliate me, isn’t it? You think I’ve been proud and this will break my pride.”

“You’re very perceptive, Miss Ponsby.”

“I’m also very helpless, and you’re taking a terribly mean advantage. Please, Miss Durrant, don’t make me say that.”

“You must. Or else!”

Quietly, Miss Victoria Ponsby began to cry. Tears fell to the stone floor. Finally she pleaded brokenly, “Please cane my bottom six more times, Miss Durrant. I’m sorry about failing to please.”

It was almost too heartbreakingly beautiful to be real. I patted the marked bottom before cutting at it again and again with the yellow cane. Victoria could not possibly stand still and danced most delightfully. Victoria’s tears flowed steadily throughout her second punishment, and at the end it was I who dried her cheeks, When I took her handcuffs from the hook, she surprised me.

“I think I ought to hate you, Miss Durrant, but I don’t. I think it’s silly but I’m loving you terribly. I want to see you naked the way you have me. Please?”

It was an interesting shock, something I had not seen in this girl.

But there was about the request the same hint of dominance, the act of talking down to a social inferior I had seen before. I refrained from any insincere expression of outrage but simply said, “You’re asking for something you’re not ready for, Victoria, nor am I ready to grant your wish. You will see me naked in my own good time, but I will always see you naked as I see you now. Get used to it.”

“Yes, Miss Durrant.”

I took Victoria’s cuffed hands from behind her back and locked them in front. I felt actually involved with this girl who, even though taking a predictable course, had done so with elegance, Her real punishment would be explaining away twelve marks instead of six when displayed before her fellow prisoners. I kissed her and locked her inside the cage.

Upstairs, still locked in the pillory, Elizabeth Lord was waiting.

It was a day of surprises, surprises which told me clearly I had much to learn about teenage female prisoners. I remembered the Frenchman’s bit of philosophy that a female is like a fine musical instrument which would respond according to the skill one used upon it. The prospect of exploring fifty feminine instruments was entrancing, stretching on and on into the future. I returned to my office and Elizabeth Lord.

“Hello. Diana.” It was as though I had never been away. I almost gasped in sheer ecstasy as I beheld the sight of silken hair falling down beside the captive head and the two captive hands hanging limp. Elizabeth’s pubic patch screamed aloud for an attention I was not prepared to give. I simply said. “Hello. Elizabeth, enjoying yourself!”

“Actually, yes. What I mean is, I have to endure this sort of thing so I might as well get all I can out of it. The way I figure it this is a damned remarkable experience I wouldn’t want to pass up. I hope you’re not going to let me loose.”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Well, don’t do it. Keep me here a while and give me whatever humiliation goes along with the treatment.”

Elizabeth still led but this time I did not follow. “You’ll have to stop telling me what to do to you,” I pointed out reasonably. “You’re the captive here to be punished and I’m the headmistress who does the punishing. Most of the time you seem to forget.”

“Yes, Diana, you’re absolutely right. Please use that damned cane on me some more until you’re sure I really am broken and mean what I say. I know your position isn’t all that easy.”

Good gosh! This mature, lovely girl had been doing some reasoning while I was gone. Her conclusions saved me time trying to express my own. I asked, “You don’t really want me to cane you again, do you?”

“Yes. I’ve not behaved well at all.”

I caned the bottom of Miss Elizabeth Lord until she screamed. It took a long time. By that time I was sweating just as hard as the naked girl in the pillory. Only her sweat was from pain, mine from exertion and pleasure. I did not let her free but picked up my papers from the desk and dealt with them even though most of my attention was upon the bowed head of a naked female I would have to treat with caution.

Elizabeth was in a strange detachment all her own, almost a trance-like state. I knew she was aware of me but only as a part of her dream, the experiment she was making of Rockley and herself. I knew also we were tremendously aware of each other. Even at a distance I keep picking up her scent.

I worked hard at keeping my mind on the paperwork even though all I really wanted to do was watch the captive Elizabeth and wonder about this treasure fate had placed within my grasp. Victoria Ponsby had admitted my punishment of her fostered only love. I was pretty sure it worked that way, too, with Elizabeth. I allowed her to stand an hour in the pillory before I used the key.

Directly I used the key, she clasp her arms around my neck and pressed her cheek against mine like a child. Once more I had the feeling I had lost control. I wanted this silent communion as much as she but knew that somehow I would have to break the spell. Gently. I disengaged, turned the lovely nudity around and placed her hands palm to palm behind her back.

I suppose I chose the binding because of the personal intimacy, something of myself Elizabeth must bear, a small but constant nagging pain she would suffer as a gift from me. She said no word as I corded her wrists as tightly as I dared. Then I compressed her forearms to enable loops of rope to clamp her elbows tight. It is not every girl one can do this with but Elizabeth’s nakedness had a supple flexibility I adored. Strand after strand I wound around the unprotesting flesh and drew the strictures tight to make the final knot tight and at the elbows where she could never reach. When I turned her once again to behold the protruding breasts, it was I who clasped my victim in my arms to kiss and kiss again before leading her to the cage and inserting her. Our eyes had said everything, we spoke no words. I stood entranced as the lush maturity turned to face the stares and walk with seeming unconcern to find what fellowship she could among the handcuffed beauties who eyed her bonds askance.