F Campbell - Golden Wrists

How the mighty have fallen!

If this had been my first time, I couldn’t have handled it so well. But with Elizabeth watching through the port, my spine and sex responded in an excited approval of my surrender. As I stripped. I was further shamed to find myself fighting down the first stages of an orgasm. When I passed the bundle of coverings out beyond recall, I supposed I had reached a nadir of shame, but I’d forgotten the handcuffs. “Give me your left hand, darling,” Elizabeth commanded, her voice loaded with sexual excitement.

Once more I knew the futility of argument. That’s the trouble with being a lawyer, you see things too clearly. Without a word of protest, I stuck my arm out of the small, round window.

Elizabeth unlocked one cuff and tightened the other a single click. “There’s a box in there you can stand on, darling, so you can raise both your hands up in back so I can attend to them.” Her voice was sweetly soothing.

“Elizabeth, please! Not behind my back!”

“Yes, dear. They’d scarcely bother you in front at all, they’d just be pretty bracelets. Come along, you have to.”

My spine was dancing sarabands in the moonlight. My sex was juicy and telling me to do as I was told. Betrayed by my flesh. I stepped up on the box, leaned forward and thrust my hands as close to the porthole as I could contrive. Elizabeth reached inside and a moment later I felt the loss of freedom within cold, steel circles around my wrists. I stepped off the box and thrust it angrily aside with a bare foot.

The opening of the door got me back into sunlight where I could feel Elizabeth’s vibrations and her lush red lips upon mine. I was working busily against the handcuffs but knew this an instinctive act only. There was no real hope of gaining freedom. Without feeling the anger I should have, I said tonelessly, “You finally made it, you’ve got me helpless and naked so I’ll have to do whatever I’m told I hope you’re happy.”

There could be no doubt of Elizabeth’s happiness. I was clasped and kissed in more places than one, and fondled quite a bit. At that moment it was exactly as I would have wished. I needed a mistress dreadfully, and most certainly had one!

It took the two of us a long while to sort ourselves out. Our feelings were so intense we sought a patch of grass and there made love. It was quite the most beautiful moment. I no longer cared about being handcuffed and naked, all I knew was the feel of Elizabeth’s arms and Elizabeth’s lips. I don’t know how long it was we twisted and cavorted, gasping and moaning in pleasure, until a male voice inquired, in heavy sarcasm, “You two girls need help?”

It was Hugo Markham! I was consumed by shame. No lady lawyer wishes a client to see her naked, handcuffed, and making passionate love with the most beautiful girl in the world. But Hugo was seeing me now in all my glory and all my shame. We had missed seeing his tiny craft in our survey of the ocean, and he had cautiously drifted into the jetty in silence. No doubt he had used a telescope and seen Elizabeth and I at play. Automatically I exclaimed, “Hugo! Go away, leave us alone.”

Elizabeth helped me stand. She was as naked as I, for these games are not played while wearing clothes She had never met Hugo Markham and was busily striving to cover what could not be hidden, until she defiantly allowed her hands to hang passive at her side to provide our visitor with a full frontal view of all her charms. Hugo was not sure which one of us deserved his attention so his gaze flitted back and forth.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he exclaimed happily. “I never expected this.” Sarcastically he gave me his full attention. “Would this come under the heading of ‘Torts’. Miss Durrant?”

I remember telling him to drop dead and making other, similar suggestions, to which he paid no heed. When Elizabeth hastily started to dress, his voice became imperiously male. “Drop it. No clothes for you, my girl. I want you both exactly as you are. Anyone got another pair of handcuffs?”

Elizabeth stopped dressing. I could be no help in a struggle in which male strength must prevail. Acidly, but with evident interest in our visitor, she snapped. “No, we don’t have another pair of handcuffs. The only ones we have are on Diane, and there they’ll stay.”

I could tell she was uncertain of Hugo’s status or possibilities. “Hugo, take us back to the mainland, and I’ll give you whatever you want,” I said urgently. “You’ve walked in on an unusual situation which I’ll explain on the way. Please stop looking between my legs.”

“What, sweetheart? I’ll look where I damn well please. I seem to have struck the jackpot. Who’s the glorious creature?”

We sorted each other out in a nice, civilized sort of way which prompted me to innocently inquire, “Will somebody please unlock these handcuffs?”

It appeared both my companions were deaf. Hugo was surveying the two neat piles of clothes lying innocently on the jetty. From them he extracted a full length nylon and ordered Elizabeth, in a male authority, “Back up here and cross you wrists behind your back. And don’t argue:” I fully expected Elizabeth to slap his face or at least make a run for it. But there were still depths to Elizabeth Lord I did not know. With a strange little smile, she shrugged and did as ordered in a docile fashion. She winked at me. Before I could protest or utter a warning, the nylon had sealed her wrists and was then wound and knotted in a manner I knew for certain she could not break. Mrs. Elizabeth Lord and I were the prisoners of Mr. Hugo Markham.

It was an interesting situation, a pair of naked females with their hands securely fastened behind their backs, and a male. Testily. I demanded, “You’re being an idiot, Hugo. What do you intend to do with us.”

“Use you carnally, of course!” He cocked a sarcastic eyebrow. “I trust my terminology is legally correct?”

“So is the word rape.” I assured him. “Surely you’ve something more sensible in mind?”

“I’m thinking about it, sweetheart, but there’s the matter of my claim to a share of the Estate which you haven’t done too well with to date. Perhaps if I whipped you every day for a week, you might get down to the real nitty gritty, and produce results.” He turned to Elizabeth. “As for you, Mrs. Elizabeth Lord, I presume your husband would be happy to pay some fine, round sum to have you delivered back into his loving arms ... Or perhaps returned to Rockley?”

Hugo had seen instant possibilities, probably he would think up others. But at that moment, Elizabeth commanded, “Diane, you run one way and I’ll run the other. He can only catch one of us.”

We broke apart and fled in opposite direction. Hugo cursed and wasted two or three moment choosing his prey. I suppose formal association prompted his decision to pick me. But I ran towards what I hoped was freedom. I was following a path leading from the jetty towards the house. There was an exhilaration in flight such as I had not known in years. I loved every yard and gave it everything I had. But I suppose the result was inevitable. Hugo was a male and free, and I was female with hands locked behind my back. Within a hundred yards he had a handful of my hair to bring me to a pained and panting halt. I was quickly thrust against a sapling and my handcuffs tied to it with his necktie. Leaving me disgustedly conscious of female helplessness against the Male, he diverted his attention to Elizabeth.

At such times our minds become computers and we obey. I could help no one or nothing. Although captive to the little tree. I fought furiously against the knots in his necktie. It was not the least bit easy because the knots were behind the trunk while my hands were not. I lunged and pulled and strained and was still thus busily employed when Hugo returned to view, propelling Elizabeth forward by a handful of her hair. Failing to make me aware of any regrets she might be feeling, Elizabeth was smiling brightly as if this was all one really fun game.