F Campbell - Golden Wrists

I had half expected Valerie not to carry out her threat to take me to dinner handcuffed, but going down in the elevator she changed my cuffs from back to front. And then made sure the silver bands were tight. Feverishly I clutched the scarf.

I faced the crowed restaurant in pretty much the way Custer must have faced the Indian hordes. But I was surprised by the absence of attention to what was hidden beneath the scarf. Reaching our table I sat down in dual relief at taking weight off my punished feet, and placing my chained hands in my lap, pretty much out of sight.

“Pick up the menu and read it, dear,” came my mistress’ voice.

“They know me here and the waiter could care less.”

It was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, to lift my chained hands and reach for the menu. But, if anyone saw, they did not stare or make comment. Life in the crowded restaurant went on without the gasps of surprise I had expected. When the waiter came. I calmly gave my order beneath his indulgent eye, but heaved a sigh of relief when he was gone.

“You see, darling, just the way I said.” Valerie laughed away my pink cheeks. “You’re not the first handcuffed girl this place has seen.”

I refused to think about having to stand on wounded feet later, and refused to hide my chained wrists. No doubt some of the courage came from a cocktail which I downed quickly and asked, in shameful respect, if I could have a second. I had learned bitterly I must never take Mrs. Valerie Latimer for granted. Memory of the bastinado would cause me to think twice about doing anything without permission.

I looked around to find only one young woman gazing at the steel I displayed. I caught her eye and she smiled before turning away.

It was not until we were well into the entree that my world was suddenly shocked. Hugo walked in.

I learned later our meeting was pure chance. I looked up to behold his stricken features and accusing eyes as though he saw me naked in a public place or knew me for the traitor I was. When Valerie looked up questioningly, I blurted introductions.

“So you’re Hugo!” The woman who owned me now stripped the man with her eyes. “Would you care to join us?”

I should have been on my feet and Hugo and I should have been hugging and kissing. But Hugo squirmed uncomfortably and said. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’m with some people. I just happened to see...”

“Very well, then. Nice to have met you, but please do run along.”

Valerie dismissed my Hugo as a person of small concern.

Hugo did not move. He was looking at me and my handcuffs and the reproach of all the world was in his eyes. “I thought you were going to come to me, Diane, when you were free. That was the deal, wasn’t it?”

I held up joined hands and said, “I’m not exactly free, Hugo.”

“Nonsense. A pair of handcuffs never stopped a girl from doing anything, What sort of nonsense are you into now?”

“It’s not nonsense, you intruding man.” There was steel in Valerie’s voice. “I’ve just whipped this girl’s feet and the last thing she or I need is a moonstruck male, Please go away, you’re obsolete.”

Poor Hugo! He gazed back and forth between my stricken gaze and my mistress’ stern gaze. She obviously had no time or sympathy for any male. For Hugo, she was something new and mutual loathing blossomed before my eyes. My male lover dismissed my feminine owner without a word as he held out his hand to me. “Come along, Diane, we’ve had enough of this nonsense. Never mind the handcuffs, I’ll take care of them later.” Hugo was playing the heavy male and playing it well.

Instinctively I reached for the hand but stopped half way as the steel bracelets proclaimed my condition. For a moment three pairs of eyes were locked, until, like a scared little girl, I returned my hands to my lap. I looked up at my impatient Hugo and said meekly, “I can’t! Oh, Hugo, I can’t! Ohhhhh. Hugo...!”

Until that moment I hadn’t realized the hold Valerie had on me. I knew I should get up and walk out of there with Hugo holding my arm, but I suppose there were several reasons why I sat like a dummy and waited for others to decide, not the least of which was the illogical bond that had formed between me and the woman who had done such terrible things to me.

Valerie made the decision by speaking to me alone, “Your feet are punished, Diane. That punishment is finished. Do you want another?”

I most certainly did not want another. I felt strangely content that I had paid my dues and a slavegirl in good standing. As the wait lengthened, Hugo said an abrupt, “Have a nice day, Diane,” and strode away.

“So that’s your Hugo.” Valerie laughed at my distress. “I suppose such men have their uses but he’s not for you, dear, and I wouldn’t give him the time of day. Men only become interesting after their first hundred million. Eat your dinner.”

Valerie’s authority was total. It enfolded me in a strange likeness of love as I worked my knife and fork. I realized that she had broken me and I was hers. It was almost a good feeling.

“I suppose he’s impaled you a few times.” my mistress inquired without much concern.

“We were lovers.” I admitted. “He also whipped me on occasion.”

“Well, well, the full service! I suppose you thought yourself a lucky girl!”

“You said my punishment was finished? Will there be others?”

“You know there will be others, darling. Don’t nag. Your punishments are the essence of me being Me, and you being You. There’s wonderful times in store for us.”

“But what about Andrew Everleigh? Won’t he be expecting me back?” I asked.

“I’ll look after Andrew Everleigh, forget him.” I didn’t tell my mistress how much I’d forgotten already. Valerie’s force and power possessed me in a way that overrode all else. The past was already growing hazy. Plessious and my law practice dissolved into the mists before the radiance of the woman who had caned my feet. And even Hugo had become a disappearing back in a crowded restaurant. I shivered deliciously but not from cold.