F Campbell - Golden Wrists

Elizabeth was right! Boredom had crept upon on me and caught me unawares. “I’m not bored with you,” I said defensively.

“Of course you’re not, darling, we two are made for each other.”

Mischief danced in her eyes. “What you say the two of us escape?”

“That’s silly, I can’t possibly let you escape, and there’s nothing for me to escape from. I’m in charge.”

“Andrew Everleigh is in charge, darling, not you. There’s probably a lot I don’t understand about Rockley and the Estate, and those girls you’ve told me about on their Greek island. But anyway you look at it, you’re wasting your time. Untie me and we’ll make a run for it!”

“You’re a married woman, Elizabeth. Your husband would just send you back here.”

Her voice was something intense, “Look, you beautiful idiot, I’m sick to death of Herbert and his money. I’ve got money in my own right and it’s very much accessible. It can take you and I pretty much anywhere we want to go. Untie me. Please...?”

Elizabeth knew me better than I knew myself. I was suddenly on fire with longing. It would have been so easy to untie Elizabeth’ s hands and the two of us run back to my former life, but I remembered Uncle Andrew’s warning. “It wouldn’t work.” I told her. “In my own way, I’m as much a prisoner here as you. Andrew Everleigh foresees everything and he’s promised me that if ever I got the notion to do as you suggest, he’d have me kidnapped within a few days and right back here where I started from. It’s no use, dear, he’s far too powerful.”

We looked at each other soberly but the check on Elizabeth’s enthusiasm was momentary. “That’s supposing he knows where you are. But suppose he doesn’t??? I’ve thought of the perfect place.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to be brought back to Rockley in a wooden box,” I said.

“You’re being morbid, darling. Our ideal hideaway is that island you’ve told me about - what’s it’s name? Plessious? He wouldn’t dream of us being there. And even if he did, that girl you’ve told me about would hide us, wouldn’t she?”

Elizabeth’s excitement was infectious and I was beholding visions. “I don’t know how Naomi would feel about it. She’s a good deal influenced by Uncle Andrew, too. And he actually is her uncle, and he actually is a power in the handling of the Estate. Naomi was a prisoner here once, the same as you, and got herself well whipped and sent back to Plessious with stern warning to behave. But it’s a lovely idea.”

“Let’s do it then. You’d be going to friends and I couldn’t be much worse off than I am here. Think of it, darling, the Grecian sun and azure seas. And there’s those three other girls beside Naomi. Please take me there, Diane darling. Take me in handcuffs if you want but I’m bound to get possession of you sometimes. You can’t tell me I’m not getting you interested.”

Elizabeth was right, I was interested. But too cautious yet to untie her hands, even when she turned her back and wiggled captive fingers. Once more I was annoyed by the tingling up and down my spine by her suggestion of her possessing me as I now possessed her. There was still the question of boredom, and I was still the Mistress so clung to my authority. “I’m going to have you whipped, Elizabeth, just to teach you not to dangle temptation in front of my nose. You’re a menace.”

“But a lovely menace, darling.” Once more she pursed her lips. “Twenty strokes,” I said decisively. Elizabeth stuck out her tongue at me. “You’re only having me whipped to salve your conscience. You think Uncle Andrew is looking over your shoulder and it’s something you have to do. Sure, I’m tempting you, and it’s a gorgeous temptation you can’t resist.” She laughed in my face as if the threat of twenty strokes with the whip was a mere nothing. “After you’ve had me all marked up you’ll feel sorry for being so mean to someone you love - see if I’m not right.”

I did not have Elizabeth whipped but I personally locked her back in her tiny cell and snapped the metal collar around her throat. I hurried away before becoming prey to more outlandish temptation.

For two days I let her sit in chained solitude, expecting the whip but not getting it. She would be, I hoped, somewhat more tractable. Finally I could resist her no longer and took her back upstairs to bed. It was as though the two days of solitary confinement had not passed. Elizabeth Lord was irrepressible. “Thank you for not having me whipped, darling. I really thought you might. I would have hated it and I wouldn’t have talked about our escape for several hours afterward. I thought of the two of us a lot while you keep me locked down there. Diane. I love you.”

I sighed. “Then stop nagging at me to set you free and run off someplace like a couple of kids.”

“I won’t do that, darling. Whip me all you want. Both of us will still know my idea is perfect. You can’t poke a hole in it.” Once again she turned her back to me, wiggled bound hands invitingly. “Untie my wrists, Diane, I want to see what it feels like to have hands. I’ve almost forgotten.”

I was enchanted and bewitched. For very sure I was utterly besotted by this captive beauty I adored. Elizabeth’s crossed wrists so tightly and expertly bound held potent appeal as though they cried aloud, reminding me of love. Savagely I found scissors and cut and cut and cut until the many strands of twine fell shredded to the floor and she who had been my prisoner turned swiftly to envelope me in ardent arms. It was a long time before we spoke again.

Apart from the first swift dash to Elizabeth’s bank, we made our flight as leisurely as plane schedules permitted. Once well on our way, I realized how absolutely right Elizabeth was, I owed nothing to Uncle Andrew and Rockley, and couldn’t spend my life whipping the bottoms of girls. Elizabeth Lord was all the female I would ever want!

That night in our hotel room, we scattered our sparse belongings into draws and on the dresser. While placing her things, Elizabeth casually placed a pair of handcuffs where I could not fail to see. Her explanation was typical for her. “I picked them up at Rockley, darling, a little memento I knew you’d love.”

“I don’t love such things,” I said crossly. “Drop them in the trash or out of the window, get rid of them.”

“Darling, they’re not for me, they’re for you!”

How can I explain the tingling nerves up and down my spine and the surge of excitement in my sex! But Elizabeth was being all too much Elizabeth all too soon. I picked up the shinning circlets to say. “You’re dreaming. Elizabeth, there’s no way I’m having these things on my wrists. Get rid of them.”

“If you hate them so much, why are you holding them like that, darling?”

Hastily I put them back on the dresser as though to rid myself of temptation. Striving to keep alive the atmosphere of fun. I offered, “I refuse to have them on me anywhere, but if you want to sleep tonight with handcuffed hands, I don’t mind a bit. You look sweet when you’re handcuffed.”

Elizabeth sighed as though bearing a great burden. “I know you have to put up a defense, darling, you can’t possibly just stick you hands out. But you’re going to be handcuffed whether you think so or not.”

“If you think you’ll get the best of me, you’re crazy.” I responded.

“I couldn’t possibly use force on you, darling.” Elizabeth’s eyes were glowing as she beheld my nakedness. “I can’t possibly throw them out of the window, darling, and I’m sure you don’t expect me to. Leave them there on the dresser. I’ll find a use for them.”

“I bet you will!” I agreed without feeling the least bit angry. “I know what you intend, you’ll wait until I’m asleep. Then when I wake up they’ll be on my wrists. I wished to goodness you’d left them at Rockley.”